 | Old and New |  |
132
FOR AN URN
She chose to die.Grave here beneath our helpless flowers
‘She chose to die.’
Alas! the sun forsook her sky
What while he gladdened other bowers:
She tasted life—a few sad hours;
And chose to die.
| Old and New | |
Grave here beneath our helpless flowers
‘She chose to die.’
Alas! the sun forsook her sky
What while he gladdened other bowers:
She tasted life—a few sad hours;
And chose to die.