Verse > Anthologies > Harriet Monroe, ed. > Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, 1912–22
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Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936).  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse.  1912–22.
 
Birthday
By D. H. Lawrence
 
    IF I were well-to-do
I would put roses on roses, and cover your grave
With multitude of white roses, and just a few
    Red ones, a bloody-white flag over you.
 
    So people passing under        5
The ash-trees of the valley road, should raise
Their eyes to your bright place, and then in wonder
    Should climb the hill, and put the flowers asunder.
 
    And seeing it is your birthday,
They would say, seeing each mouth of white rose praise        10
You highly, every blood-red rose display
    Your triumph of anguish above you, they would say:
 
    “’Tis strange, we never knew
While she was here and walking in our ways
That she was as the wine-jar whence we drew        15
    Our draught of faith that sent us on anew.”
 
    And so I’d raise
A rose-bush unto you in all their hearts
A rose of memory with a scent of praise
    Wafting like solace down their length of days.        20
 
 
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