Verse > Anthologies > Fuess and Stearns, eds. > The Little Book of Society Verse
Fuess and Stearns, comps.  The Little Book of Society Verse.  1922.
By Henry Cuyler Bunner
MY love she leans from the window
  Afar in a rosy land;
And red as a rose are her blushes,
  And white as a rose her hand.
And the roses cluster around her,        5
  And mimic her tender grace;
And nothing but roses can blossom
  Wherever she shows her face.
I dwell in a land of winter,
  From my love a world apart—        10
But the snow blooms over with roses
  At the thought of her in my heart.
.      .      .      .      .      .      .      .
This German style of poem
  Is uncommonly popular now;
For the worst of us poets can do it—        15
  Since Heine showed us how.

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