Page:Thirty poems (IA thirtypoems00bryarich).pdf/104
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POEMS.
Again the hinges turn, and a youth, departing, throws
A look of longing backward, and sorrowfully goes;
A blooming maid, unbinding the roses from her hair,
Moves mournfully away from amidst the young and fair.
A look of longing backward, and sorrowfully goes;
A blooming maid, unbinding the roses from her hair,
Moves mournfully away from amidst the young and fair.
Oh glory of our race that so suddenly decays!
Oh crimson flush of morning that darkens as we gate!
Oh breath of summer blossoms that on the restless air
Scatters moment's sweetness and flies we know not where!
Oh crimson flush of morning that darkens as we gate!
Oh breath of summer blossoms that on the restless air
Scatters moment's sweetness and flies we know not where!
I grieve for life's bright promise, just shown and then withdrawn;
But still the sun shines round me: the evening bird sings on,
But still the sun shines round me: the evening bird sings on,