DAILY DYING
Not in a moment drops the rose
That in a summer garden grows;—
A robin sings beneath the tree
A twilight song of ecstasy,
And the red, red leaves at its fragrant heart,
Trembling so in delicious pain,
Fall to the ground with a sudden start
And the grass is gay with a crimson stain;
And a honey-bee, out of the fields of clover,
Heavily flying the garden over,
Brushes the stem as it passes by,
And others fall where the heart-leaves lie;
And air and dew, ere night is done,
Have stolen the petals, every one.
That in a summer garden grows;—
A robin sings beneath the tree
A twilight song of ecstasy,
And the red, red leaves at its fragrant heart,
Trembling so in delicious pain,
Fall to the ground with a sudden start
And the grass is gay with a crimson stain;
And a honey-bee, out of the fields of clover,
Heavily flying the garden over,
Brushes the stem as it passes by,
And others fall where the heart-leaves lie;
And air and dew, ere night is done,
Have stolen the petals, every one.
And sunset's gleam of gorgeous dyes
Ne'er with one shadow fades away,
But slowly o'er those radiant skies
There steals the evening cold and gray;
And amber and violet linger still
When stars are over the eastern hill.
Ne'er with one shadow fades away,
But slowly o'er those radiant skies
There steals the evening cold and gray;
And amber and violet linger still
When stars are over the eastern hill.
The maple does not shed its leaves
In one tempestuous scarlet rain,
In one tempestuous scarlet rain,
