The Rose Tree

Portrait of William Butler Yeats
William Butler Yeats 1865–1939

'O words are lightly spoken,' Said Pearse to Connolly, 'Maybe a breath of politic words Has withered our Rose Tree; Or maybe but a wind that blows Across the bitter sea.'

'It needs to be but watered,' James Connolly replied, 'To make the green come out again And spread on every side, And shake the blossom from the bud To be the garden's pride.'

'But where can we draw water,' Said Pearse to Connolly, 'When all the wells are parched away? O plain as plain can be There's nothing but our own red blood Can make a right Rose Tree.'

Keep reading

Discover more of William Butler Yeats’s poetry.

Explore all poems

Readers

Reader discussion

Your turn

Shown with your comment.

Never published. Only so we can reach you.

Comments are read before they appear. See our terms.