Love's last gift

Love to his singer held a glistening leaf,

and said: "The rose-tree and the apple-tree

Have fruits to vaunt or flowers to lure the bee;

And golden shafts are in the feathered sheaf

Of the great harvest marshal, the year's chief

Victorious summer; aye, and 'neath warm sea

Strange secret grasses lurk inviolably

Between the filtering channels of sunk reef...

All are my blooms; and all sweet blooms of love

To thee I gave while spring and summer sang;

But autumn stops to listen, with some pang

From those worse things the wind is moaning of.

Only this laurel dreads no winter days:

Take my last gift; thy heart hath sung my praise."