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Couleur de Rose

Helen Hunt Jackson 1830 (Amherst, Massachusetts) – 1885 (San Francisco)



All things to-day 'Couleur de rose,'
I see,-oh, why?
I know, and my dear love she knows,
Why, oh, why!
On both my eyes her lips she set,
All red and warm and dewy wet,
As she passed by.
The kiss did not my eyelids close,
But like a rosy vapor goes,
Where'er I sit, where'er I lie,
Before my every glance, and shows
All things to-day 'Couleur de rose.'

Would it last thus? Alas, who knows?
Men ask and sigh:
They say it fades, 'Couleur de rose.'
Why, oh, why?
Without swift joy and sweet surprise,
Surely those lips upon my eyes
Could never lie,
Though both our heads were white as snows,
And though the bitterest storm that blows,
Of trouble and adversity,
Had bent us low: all life still shows
To eyes that love 'Couleur de rose.'

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

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Helen Hunt Jackson

Helen Maria Hunt Jackson, born Helen Fiske, was an American poet and writer who became an activist on behalf of improved treatment of Native Americans by the United States government. more…

All Helen Hunt Jackson poems | Helen Hunt Jackson Books

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