[Poems by Wilde in] Richard Henry Wilde | ||
TO ---
But yesterday, these flowers
Hung blooming on their stem;
But yesterday, my hours,
Were bright and gay like them:
Hung blooming on their stem;
But yesterday, my hours,
Were bright and gay like them:
Tomorrow, faded—perished—
They will be flung away;
So the fond hopes I cherished,
Must wither with today!
They will be flung away;
So the fond hopes I cherished,
Must wither with today!
[Poems by Wilde in] Richard Henry Wilde | ||