 | English Roses |  |
THE NEW YEAR.
Before me looms the threshold, lyingBetween two shadows yet a shade
Itself by unseen fingers made,
Between the future days and flying.
The old dear loves behind grow dimmer
With downcast eyes and veilèd face
And outstretched hands beyond embrace,
And dear new loves that greet me glimmer.
I waver between tears and laughter,
And all my heart distracted cries
Drawn by the two eternities,
The precious Past and hope's Hereafter.
The ties were beautiful now broken,
The red lips vanished more than sweet
And fond the white and rhythmic feet
With passion that was never spoken.
But then the Future tells a story
Of larger worlds and ways to be,
Unknown and virginal and free
Like some fair woman in her glory.
The two hands drop with crimson roses,
Soft music is the fragrant breath,
And be it life or be it death
I choose the grace that half uncloses.
| English Roses | |