BEFORE THE MIRROR

By Algernon Charles Swinburne

White rose in red rose-garden

Is not so white;

Snowdrops that plead for pardon

And pine for fright

Because the hard East blows

Over their maiden rows

Grow not as this face grows from pale to bright.

Behind the veil, forbidden,

Shut up from sight,

Love, is there sorrow hidden,

Is there delight?

Is joy thy dower or grief,

White rose of weary leaf,

Late rose whose life is brief, whose loves are light?

Soft snows that hard winds harden

Till each flake bite

Fill all the flowerless garden

Whose flowers took flight

Long since when summer ceased,

And men rose up from feast,

And warm west wind grew east, and warm day night.