Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ODE TO A THISTLE, by MARCUS S. C. RICKARDS


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ODE TO A THISTLE, by                    
First Line: Naught in fell or field, I trow
Last Line: And salute thee reigning.
Subject(s): Fate; Grief; Love; Sin; Destiny; Sorrow; Sadness


NAUGHT in fell or field, I trow,
Fails of human love as thou!
Churl, why rudely disallow
Those who pause to handle?
Fretful spleen lurks in thy look;
rightly is thy haunt forsook;
Those alone thy malice brook
Cased in glove and sandal.

Who shall sorrow if thy fate
Be to perish soon or late,
When some beast of vile estate
Straying near beholds thee?
Yet there lingers by thee one
To admire what others shun --
Brave to scrutinize, where none
Pondering enfolds thee.

Still when I recall thy birth,
Evil's yield from cursed Earth,
Alien from all charm and mirth
Man may well regard thee;
Type of Sin, with spines beset,
Wooed by none without regret
Piercing pain and eyelids wet,
Fitly all discard thee!

Fitly, were it not for this
That thy purple bloom I wis
Figures the imperial Bliss
Stored for Virtue reigning,
Virtue, born of primal sin,
Thorn-begirt, secure within,
Meekly stealing up to win
Beauty by self-training --

Beauty open to a Sun
Cheering once, slow growth begun,
Smiling, now the Crown is won,
Dower of glory lending --
Beauty, charming each who brings
Sense to prize pure simple things --
Beauty wooing golden wings
O'er its secrets bending:

Ay -- hold not the fancy vain
If this field seem Heaven's Plain
For the hour, and yon bright train
On the blossoms brooding
Be fair Virtue's suitors all
Basking mid her honied thrall,
Spirits risen from the Fall,
Earthly chains eluding!

Sharper thorns beset the Rose,
Queen of every flower that blows.
Scarce a fairer field bloom grows
Than thy summer story --
Blossom charming radiant bees;
Down unravished by the breeze;
Fluttering goldfinches that seize
Many a silken glory.

Scotland! sure an instinct true
To this plant thy children drew:
For its story tells how grew
The high Truth they cherish:
Emblem worn in cap or breast,
Well reminding how the best
In each heart and life is blest,
May it never perish!

Yea! live on thou regal Flower,
Who hast flamed me for an hour
With imaginings to dower
Hearts till now disdaining!
Some thy rule may cease to scorn --
Musing, that, without the thorn
Virtue could no soul adorn --
And salute thee reigning.





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