The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
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STRANGE
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 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
205
STRANGE
How passing strange to think, when we are deadThe cruel heedless flowers will bloom the same—
White roses, yellow roses, roses red—
Amid the meads through which we silent came,
When passion burned throughout us like a flame;
The ferns, the grass, the creamy meadow-sweet,
Will cluster, knowing not reproach or shame,
Around the passage of new lovers' feet,
And the rich sun will gladden these with heat,
Not recking how beneath their tread we lie;—
Their faces just as glad a morn will meet
As we met, equal azure in the sky:
And yet with us the dream no more abides—
Crowning fresh lovers, garlanding new brides.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |