Fair flower, that dost so comely grow,
Hid in this silent, dull retreat,
Untouched thy honied blossoms blow,
Unseen thy little branches greet;
…No roving foot shall crush thee here,
…No busy hand provoke a tear.

By Nature’s self in white arrayed,
She bade thee shun the vulgar eye,
And planted here the gaurdian shade,
And sent soft waters murmuring by;
…Thus quietly thy summer goes,
…Thy days declinging to repose.

Smit with those charms, that must decay,
I grieve to see your future doom;
They died–nor were those flowers more gay,
The flowers that did in Eden bloom;
…Unpitying frosts, and Autumn’s power
…Shall leave no vestige of this flower.

From morning suns and evenign dews
At first thy little being came:
If nothing once, you nothing lose,
For when you die you are the same;
…The space between, is but an hour,
…The frail duration of a flower.

Analysis, meaning and summary of Philip Freneau's poem The Wild Honey-Suckle


  1. Frank Gado says:

    The comments indicate that visitors to this site know neither how to spell nor how to read. “This poem is about the United States.” Really? Why not say it is about penguins in Transylvania? Or the bed from which two lovers have arisen to have a peanut butter sandwich?

  2. Sal says:

    The Wild Honey Suckle was written in 1786. : )

  3. Silvia says:

    Give an answer to the kid!!!!!!

  4. hassan says:

    I am doing a monograpy with this poem, can anyone help me with the year in which it was written please?

  5. Roh Suhyeun says:

    Freneau describe the beauty of the flower very charmingly and sweetly. But at the sametime, I can feel sorrow and loneliness of itself. And show the stern or hard realities of life and describe sensible way representing flower as real life.

  6. IMMASHINE says:

    so guys
    this is rill good i mean for shizzle good.

  7. cheynne says:

    this poem rocks if you dontt like it your crazy

  8. Crystal says:

    A flower may be the most beautiful and overlooked peice of nature. Cherrish it while it lasts for by the change of each seaon it may dissapate only to become a desire. Perhaps Freneau knew of a beauty that only nature could describe, provoked by the insincerity of the british people.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Do you have any comments, criticism, paraphrasis or analysis of this poem that you feel would assist other visitors in understanding the meaning or the theme of this poem by Philip Freneau better? If accepted, your analysis will be added to this page of American Poems. Together we can build a wealth of information, but it will take some discipline and determination.