4385843Poems — October to MayElizabeth Chase Allen
OCTOBER TO MAY.
HE day that brightens half the earthIs night to half. Ah, sweet, One's mourning is another's mirth,—You wear your bright years like a crown, While mine, dead garlands, tangle down In chains about my feet.
The breeze which wakes the folded flower Sweeps dead leaves from the tree; So partial Time, as hour by hour He tells the rapid years,—eheu!—Brings bloom and beauty still to you, But leaves his blight with me.
The sun which calls the violet up Out of the moistened mould Withers the wind-flower's fragile cup, For even Nature has her pets, And favoring the new, forgets To love and spare the old.
The shower that makes the bud a rose Beats off the lilac bloom;I am a lilac; so life goes; A lilac that has outlived May; You are a blush-rose: well-a-day! I pass, and give you room!
HE day that brightens half the earth Is night to half. Ah, sweet, One's mourning is another's mirth,—You wear your bright years like a crown, While mine, dead garlands, tangle down In chains about my feet. 
HE day that brightens half the earth Is night to half. Ah, sweet, One's mourning is another's mirth,—You wear your bright years like a crown, While mine, dead garlands, tangle down In chains about my feet. 