Poems (Prescott)/Opportunity
For works with similar titles, see Opportunity.
OPPORTUNITY
She leaned out from the lattice At the budding of the mom, The Sim was on the hill-tops, The dew was on the thorn. The willful climbing roses Above her wove a crown,And wreathed her queen of maidens As he came riding down.
He checked his horse's gallop And dallied by the way, Smiling and gazing on her, Loath to go and loath to stay; For he thought, "The sweet tomorrow Waits upon my delays,Then wherefore haste to gather The flower that blooms always?
Where she blossoms I can find her Before the season's flight, Blushing beside her lattice, And smiling in the light. So shall I waste the morning, The dew upon the way,In reaching for a posy That opens every day?"
He passed—the sunshine with him,— The dew dried on the thorn,The roses dropped their petals That crowned her queen at morn.Yet once, when his heart was weary, And life of glory shorn,He turned him to her lattice,— But she and the roses were gone!