 | In Russet & Silver |  |
71
TO THE ALMOND
Priest in the masque of pleasure!
The wind's rude hand disposes
Thy fair brow's ruffled treasure,
Thy wrecked and scattered crown of pale pink roses.
The wind's rude hand disposes
Thy fair brow's ruffled treasure,
Thy wrecked and scattered crown of pale pink roses.
The soft west wind comes sighing
With weight of scents that load her;
Spring wakes as thou art dying,
Thou harbinger of sunlight, warmth, and odour.
With weight of scents that load her;
Spring wakes as thou art dying,
Thou harbinger of sunlight, warmth, and odour.
Thy flower might seem the fuel
That feeds the Spring's green taper,
So quickly doth its jewel
From thy black branches fade away in vapour.
That feeds the Spring's green taper,
So quickly doth its jewel
From thy black branches fade away in vapour.
So bright thy bloom and fleeting,
So sweet and transitory,
Our parting blends with greeting,
As fame or love with death in human story.
So sweet and transitory,
Our parting blends with greeting,
As fame or love with death in human story.
72
Then ave atque vale!
Though thus so briefly blowing,
Such wonders crowd us daily,
We have no heart, fair flower, to weep thy going.
Though thus so briefly blowing,
Such wonders crowd us daily,
We have no heart, fair flower, to weep thy going.
Farewell! with all thy graces!
Till thou hast flickered by us,
Their florid full embraces
Laburnum, chestnut, lilac, thorn, deny us.
Till thou hast flickered by us,
Their florid full embraces
Laburnum, chestnut, lilac, thorn, deny us.
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