1859 edition, stanza 18

I sometimes think that never blows so red

The Rose as where some buried Cæsar bled;

⁠That every Hyacinth the Garden wears

Dropt in its Lap from some once lovely Head.

1872 edition, stanza 19

I sometimes think that never blows so red

The Rose as where some buried Cæsar bled;

That every Hyacinth the Garden wears

Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head.

1879 edition, stanza 19

I sometimes think that never blows so red

The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled;

That every Hyacinth the Garden wears

Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head.

1889 edition, stanza 19

I sometimes think that never blows so red

The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled;

That every Hyacinth the Garden wears

Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head.

1868 edition, stanza 23 1868 edition, stanza 25