 | Poems by Elizabeth Akers (Florence Percy) |  |
22
TRUE.
The fair, frail blooms which loved the sun
Grew faint at touch of cold,
And, chilled and pale, fell one by one
Dead in the dust and mould.
Grew faint at touch of cold,
And, chilled and pale, fell one by one
Dead in the dust and mould.
But here, where down the dim, wet walks
The sere leaves whirl and beat,
One rose looks through the bare brown stalks,
And charms the air with sweet.
The sere leaves whirl and beat,
One rose looks through the bare brown stalks,
And charms the air with sweet.
As one brave heart, when all the truth
On earth seems dead or lost,
Still keeps the faith and fire of youth,
And smiles in spite of frost.
On earth seems dead or lost,
Still keeps the faith and fire of youth,
And smiles in spite of frost.
Ah, though the friends I once held dear
Are far, or false, or flown,
I need not grieve, for you are here,
My hope, my love, my own!
Are far, or false, or flown,
I need not grieve, for you are here,
My hope, my love, my own!
| Poems by Elizabeth Akers (Florence Percy) | |