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My Rose

Author: Patrick Augustine Sheehan

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Electronic edition compiled by Benjamin Hazard

Funded by School of History, University College, Cork and
private donation

1. First draft

Extent of text: 785 words


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Text ID Number: E880000-007

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  1. [Details to follow].
    Canon Sheehan on the Internet
  1. Canon P.A. Sheehan, 'My Rose,' The Irish Monthly, 17/194 (August 1889) 426.
  2. Canon P.A. Sheehan, 'My Rose,' Cithara Mea; poems (Boston 1900) 182–183.
  1. Herman Joseph Heuser, Canon Sheehan of Doneraile: the story of an Irish parish priest as told chiefly by himself in books, personal memoirs, and letters (New York 1917).
  2. Arthur Coussens, P.A. Sheehan, zijn leven en zijn werken (Brugge/Bruges 1923).
  3. Michael P. Linehan, Canon Sheehan of Doneraile: Priest, Novelist, Man of Letters (Dublin 1952).
  4. Patrick Maume, The Long Gestation: Irish Nationalist Life, 1891–1918 (Dublin 1999).
  5. Patrick Maume, 'Sheehan, (Canon) Patrick Augustine,' in: Dictionary of Irish Biography (9 vols, Cambridge 2009), vol. 8, 882–884.
  6. James O'Brien (ed.), The Collected Letters of Canon Sheehan of Doneraile, 1883–1913 (Wells 2013).
  7. James O'Brien, Canon Sheehan of Doneraile 1852–1913: Outlines for a Literary Biography (Wells 2013). [Bibliographical references 205–11].
    The edition used in the digital edition
  1. My Rose in The Irish Monthly: A Magazine of General Literature, Ed. Matthew Russell SJ. , Dublin, Irish Jesuit Province (August 1889) volume 17number 194page 426


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CELT: Corpus of Electronic Texts

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The electronic text represents the edited version.

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The electronic text represents the edited text.


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Profile Description

Created: By Patrick Augustine Sheehan (1852–1913) (1889)

Use of language

Language: [EN] The text is in English.

Revision History

Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition: E880000-007

My Rose: Author: Patrick Augustine Sheehan

A June Song


  1. O Rose! my Rose! O passionate heart of the Rose!
    Why am I tempted to crush thee, O Rose surpassingly sweet?
    Thy breath is of Sharon's vales, thy petals dreamily close.
    With the blush of a child when she bows in love at her Father's feet.
    And thy beauty leads me afar, O Rose! pale, perfumed Rose!
    To lands where the Sungod rules, and smites with a breath of desire
    The cheeks of maidens — the flowers, that lean for a moment's repose
    On the lap of the leaves that flash, but drink not the flame of his fire.
    And, oh! for the languor of peace, my Rose! my beautiful Rose!
    For a fretless, passionless heart, and the shade of a feathered palm;
  2. For the cool, dim aisles where ever a zephyr of Eden blows;
    And the silvery bells of the fountain break on the convent calm.
    But what dost thou here, my Rose, my pale and languishing Rose?
    Thy petals are soiled with slime from these alchemists' forges of ours;
    And shrunk with the shrieks that arise from the fierce and passionate throes
    Of men and machines that in darkness beat out the desolate hours.
    And thus am I tempted to crush thee, O Rose, my beautiful Rose!
    Thou art here but an exiled waif; I will kill thee, and thou shalt go
    To thy home; 'tis a crime, but who will blame, if for thee I choose
    For the shrieks, the songs of the birds; for the slime, white vases of snow.
  3. P. A. S.