Simile by Susanna Haswell Rowson

Passion is like the base narcotic flower,
That flaunts its scarlet bosom to the day;
And when exerting its nefarious power,
Benumbs the sense, and steals the strength away.

In the gay morn attractive to the eye,
Its thin leaves flutter in the wanton wind;
But ere the sun declines, t’will fade and die,
While still its baleful poison lurks behind.

But Love! pure Love! the human soul pervading,
Is like the musk-rose, scenting summer’s breath;
Its charms, when budding in its prime, and fading,
Will even yield a rich perfume in death.

From: Stockton, Annis Boudinot, Rowson, Susanna and Sherman, William Thomas (ed.), In the Number of the Best Patriots: Poetry of Annis Boudinot Stockton and Susanna Rowson, 2013, Open Source, pp. 16-17.
(https://archive.org/stream/AnnisStocktonAndSusannaRowson/Annis-Stockton_and_Susanna-Rowson#page/n15/mode/2up)

Date: 1803

By: Susanna Haswell Rowson (1762-1824)

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