 | Songs of the Seasons |  |
Idle these regrets! The morrow
May bring healing on its wings.
From corruption, Beauty springs;
Happiness is born of sorrow.
Chastened sorrow is the finest
Of delights, because divinest.
Of the Seasons, as a Season
To be gladdest, I have reason.
Have I not to suit my pleasure,
Store of riches without measure—
Every quality of treasure?
May bring healing on its wings.
From corruption, Beauty springs;
Happiness is born of sorrow.
10
Of delights, because divinest.
Of the Seasons, as a Season
To be gladdest, I have reason.
Have I not to suit my pleasure,
Store of riches without measure—
Every quality of treasure?
| Songs of the Seasons | |