 | Days and Hours |  |
315
II
Their drooping graces, and their dusky hues,
Their faint sweets telling of the morning time,
Pleaded to her so well, she could not choose
But love them faded better than their prime;
She held them up before her aching sight,
She breathed fond sighs to spread them out again;
She laid their dim soft leaves across the light,
And gave them tender tears, like Autumn rain:
She sang ‘the Sun is leaving
The blessed Summer-day,
Cease, heart, ah! cease thy grieving
We must away, away!’
Their faint sweets telling of the morning time,
Pleaded to her so well, she could not choose
But love them faded better than their prime;
She held them up before her aching sight,
She breathed fond sighs to spread them out again;
She laid their dim soft leaves across the light,
And gave them tender tears, like Autumn rain:
She sang ‘the Sun is leaving
The blessed Summer-day,
Cease, heart, ah! cease thy grieving
We must away, away!’
| Days and Hours | |