At Sunset | ||
140
IN MUSIC HALL
LOOKING DOWN UPON THE WHITE HEADS OF MY CONTEMPORARIES
Beneath what mound of snow
Are hid my springtime roses?
How shall Remembrance know
Where buried Hope reposes?
Are hid my springtime roses?
How shall Remembrance know
Where buried Hope reposes?
In what forgetful heart
As in a cañon darkling,
Slumbers the blissful art
That set my heaven sparkling?
As in a cañon darkling,
Slumbers the blissful art
That set my heaven sparkling?
What sense shall never know,
Soul shall remember;
Roses beneath the snow,
June in November.
Soul shall remember;
Roses beneath the snow,
June in November.
At Sunset | ||