 | The Poetical Works of Robert Story |  |
250
She is Falling by Grief.
1836.
She is falling by grief,
Like a rose in its prime,
Ere the bloom of its leaf
Bears a token of time,
Which wastes every minute,
Yet not from decay,—
But a canker within it,
That eats it away.
Like a rose in its prime,
Ere the bloom of its leaf
Bears a token of time,
Which wastes every minute,
Yet not from decay,—
But a canker within it,
That eats it away.
No fairer draws breath;
And no purer bore name,
Till one wrong step brought death
To her peace and her fame.
O God! yet to win her
From thoughts that o'er-prey,
From the canker within her
That eats her away!
And no purer bore name,
Till one wrong step brought death
To her peace and her fame.
O God! yet to win her
From thoughts that o'er-prey,
From the canker within her
That eats her away!
| The Poetical Works of Robert Story | |