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261

SONNET VII
ALONE

The world is waxing old and grey for me.
When I see roses now, I wonder why
They are as red as ever,—why the sky
Is still as blue as ever, and the sea.
Some friends forsake us,—other loved ones die;
Like dreams a thousand golden fancies flee:
Love of the young years, is it so with thee?
Yes? Then our lonely hearts are drawn more nigh.
We are alive yet, and have work to do;
Through stormy skies still climbs the unconquered sun.
Brave hearts are faithful and strong souls are true
To life, till death the nobler bride be won.
Still every morning brings us labour new
Nor at the sunset is our task quite done.