English Roses | ||
RECONCILED.
But yet the same are brow and bosom,The same the glances coyly cast,
For in the Future lies the Past
And in the Past the Future's blossom.
But though I may not turn or tarry
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It is the former sun that shone
And the old peace with me I carry.
I cross the bound, I pass the portal,
With the old heart and feelings bright
And Him whose Shadow is our Light,
Until he calls me home immortal.
English Roses | ||