Unity, § I
The Golden Hynde and Other Poems (1914)
Context: Heart of my heart, the world is young;
Love lies hidden in every rose!
Every song that the skylark sung
Once, we thought, must come to a close:
Now we know the spirit of song,
Song that is merged in the chant of the whole,
Hand in hand as we wander along,
What should we doubt of the years that roll?
“Young men's love then lies not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes.”
Epilogue
The Flower of Old Japan and Other Poems (1907), The Flower of Old Japan
Context: p>We have come by curious ways
To the Light that holds the days;
We have sought in haunts of fear
For that all-enfolding sphere:
And lo! it was not far, but near.We have found, O foolish-fond,
The shore that has no shore beyond.Deep in every heart it lies
With its untranscended skies;
For what heaven should bend above
Hearts that own the heaven of love?</p
The Little White Rose
“I would always love Alaska Young, my crooked neighbor, with all my crooked heart.”
Miles "Pudge" Halter, p. 218
Looking for Alaska (2005)
“Oh, where is there the heart but knows
Love's first steps are upon the rose!”
Canto I
The Troubadour (1825)
“She was like a great rose that opens its heart to the whole world.”
The Inferno (1917), Ch. XVI
Context: The woman from the depths of her rags, a waif, a martyr — smiled. She must have a divine heart to be so tired and yet smile. She loved the sky, the light, which the unformed little being would love some day. She loved the chilly dawn, the sultry noontime, the dreamy evening. The child would grow up, a saviour, to give life to everything again. Starting at the dark bottom he would ascend the ladder and begin life over again, life, the only paradise there is, the bouquet of nature. He would make beauty beautiful. He would make eternity over again with his voice and his song. And clasping the new-born infant close, she looked at all the sunlight she had given the world. Her arms quivered like wings. She dreamed in words of fondling. She fascinated all the passersby that looked at her. And the setting sun bathed her neck and head in a rosy reflection. She was like a great rose that opens its heart to the whole world.
“It is no longer a passion hidden in my heart:
It is Venus herself fastened to her prey.”
Ce n'est plus une ardeur dans mes veines cachée:
C'est Vénus tout entière à sa proie attachée.
Phèdre, act I, scene III.
Phèdre (1677)
“Today in my heart
a vague trembling of stars
and all roses are
as white as my pain.”
