Volume Ii Part 131 (2/2)

And almost dreads to feel.

Along the summer woodlands wide Anew she roams, no more alone; The joy she feared is at her side, Spring's blus.h.i.+ng secret now is known.

The thrush's ringing note hath died; But glancing eye and glowing tone Fall on her from her G.o.d, her guide.

She knows not, asks not, what the goal, She only feels she moves towards bliss, And yields her pure unquestioning soul To touch and fondling kiss.

And still she haunts those woodland ways, Though all fond fancy finds there now To mind of spring or summer days, Are sodden trunk and songless bough.

The past sits widowed on her brow, Homeward she wends with wintry gaze, To walls that house a hollow vow, To hearth where love hath ceased to blaze: Watches the clammy twilight wane, With grief too fixed for woe or tear; And, with her forehead 'gainst the pane, Envies the dying year.

Alfred Austin [1835-1913]

”A ROSE WILL FADE”

You were always a dreamer, Rose--red Rose, As you swung on your perfumed spray, Swinging, and all the world was true, Swaying, what did it trouble you?

A rose will fade in a day.

Why did you smile to his face, red Rose, As he whistled across your way?

And all the world went mad for you, All the world it knelt to woo.

A rose will bloom in a day.

I gather your petals, Rose--red Rose, The petals he threw away.

And all the world derided you; Ah! the world, how well it knew A rose will fade in a day!

Dora Sigerson Shorter [1862-1918]

AFFAIRE D'AMOUR

One pale November day Flying Summer paused, They say: And growing bolder, O'er rosy shoulder Threw her lover such a glance That Autumn's heart began to dance.

(O happy lover!)

A leafless peach-tree bold Thought for him she smiled, I'm told; And, stirred by love, His sleeping sap did move, Decking each naked branch with green To show her that her look was seen!

(Alas, poor lover!)

But Summer, laughing fled, Nor knew he loved her!

'Tis said The peach-tree sighed, And soon he gladly died: And Autumn, weary of the chase, Came on at Winter's sober pace (O careless lover!)

Margaret Deland [1857-

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