It dwindled slowly, leaf by leaf;
Just like a rose
Whose full-blown petals seek the sod
Was each day's close
On this old calendar.
Just like a rose
Whose full-blown petals seek the sod
Was each day's close
On this old calendar.
And now—the end. And there is left
For witness brief,
The painted scroll and silken band
That held the sheaf
On this old calendar.
For witness brief,
The painted scroll and silken band
That held the sheaf
On this old calendar.
But somewhere, sometime we will find
The gathered leaves
Bound in a record of our lives—
The chaff and sheaves
On this old calendar.
The gathered leaves
Bound in a record of our lives—
The chaff and sheaves
On this old calendar.
THE COMING AND THE GOING
WITH spendthrift gold of daffodils,
With red of a rose,
With purple pomp of shadows where
The lilac grows—
With red of a rose,
With purple pomp of shadows where
The lilac grows—
With kingly scarlet in the hedge
Where sumacs burn,
With gray of ashes scattered far
From Time's inverted urn—
Where sumacs burn,
With gray of ashes scattered far
From Time's inverted urn—
79