 | Poems |  |
CXLVII
ON SUCH A DAY
Some hang above the tombs,
Some weep in empty rooms,
I, when the iris blooms,
Remember.
Some weep in empty rooms,
I, when the iris blooms,
Remember.
I, when the cyclamen
Opens her buds again,
Rejoice a moment—then
Remember.
Opens her buds again,
Rejoice a moment—then
Remember.
| Poems | |