 | The Autumn Garden |  |
34
Rosemary
Green bud-stars spangle
The dead, black tree;
Bloom's in a tangle
On holt and lea:
Now elm-boughs shade me,
Now birds have sung,
O heart, persuade me
I still am young!
The dead, black tree;
Bloom's in a tangle
On holt and lea:
Now elm-boughs shade me,
Now birds have sung,
O heart, persuade me
I still am young!
Ah, no; heart, hush thee!
Be wise, serene,
Lest snow-wreaths crush thee
Ere Hallowe'en;
Though June be jolly,
Though flowers be sweet,
'Tis naught but folly,
And fond deceit.
Be wise, serene,
Lest snow-wreaths crush thee
Ere Hallowe'en;
Though June be jolly,
Though flowers be sweet,
'Tis naught but folly,
And fond deceit.
Heart, thou hast finished
With joys that fade;
Thy strength diminished,
Thy light decayed!
The brain is an ember;
The blood is cold—
O heart, remember
We both are old!
With joys that fade;
Thy strength diminished,
Thy light decayed!
35
The blood is cold—
O heart, remember
We both are old!
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