Old song
M. Bird
Thy absence overflows the rose,
From ev'ry petal gleam
Such words as it were vain to close,
Such tears as crowd the dream.
So eyes that mind thee fair and gone,
Bemused at waking, spend
On skies that gild thy remote dawn
More hopes than here attend.
The burden of the rose will fade
Sped in the spectrum's kiss,
But here the thorn in sharpened shade
Weathers all loneliness.