 | Poems |  |
DEAD.
Roses!
Ah! to charm the golden light,
Summer none like them discloses,
Smiles that day that met my sight,
Roses!
Ah! to charm the golden light,
Summer none like them discloses,
Smiles that day that met my sight,
Roses!
Lilies!
Oh, to live again that day!
White—how white! how cold and still is
Each wan cheek—sweet life away!
Lilies!
Oh, to live again that day!
White—how white! how cold and still is
Each wan cheek—sweet life away!
Lilies!
| Poems | |