Roisin Dubh
Nora Hopper Chesson
1871 to 1906
Everyone knows that a rose will fade,
(Sure I knew, too!)
So why would I be a whit dismayed
When you died, Roisin dubh?
For a day and a night and a morrow
The bloom of you —
Then death: and what use of sorrow
For a rose, Roisin dubh?
Yet, little black rose, so dear you were,
So sweet you grew,
And your stem is sad now you are not there,
And your leaves, Roisin dubh!
O little black rose, my soul I'd give,
(My body, too!)
For a day, for an hour, that you might live
On your bush, Roisin dubh!
Sweet, sweet, till the world was glad for you,
And kinder, too —
Now your bush and your world are sad for you,
Roisin dubh!
Nora Hopper Chesson's Roisin Dubh
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- Multiple revisions to ensure the arrangement honors the poet's original vision
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