A furious lady and a rose

A crimson rose on pavement fell
And dropped a petal in the clay,
Or was it but a shadowplay?
In dim light hardly could I tell

To take a look my back I bent
And did sit down on my knee
To find out to my total glee
The flower to its death besent

What lady dropped it from her hand?
Cold hearted, cruel I surmised,
She, who a rose in dust disguised,
Shall not for me become a friend!

Between my fingertips I gripped
Its stem so shaggy, spiky, dry
And struggling not to give a cry
Then upwards my eyes humid creeped

And - lo! - amidst that burning night
In purple, pink and golden light
Two burning black eyes in the air,
Outrageous, pierced me with a glare

How dare you touch my crimson rose?
Her voice from evening's calm arose
I shrugged as if by storm were caught
And give an answer could I not

And so she stood there akimbo
I cleared my throat thrice in a row
But meek stayed on my knees in awe
With eyes fixed on her frowning brow