YES; I remember the white rose. And since then the youngivy has grown; From your window we could not reach it, and now it is over the stone. We did not part as we meet, Dear. Well, Time hath his own stern cures! And Alice's eyes are deeper, and her hair has grown like yours. Is our greeting all so strange then? But there 's something here amiss, When it is not well to speak kindly. And the olives are ripe by this. I had not thought you so altered. But all is changed, God knows! Good-night. It is night so soon now. Look there! you have dropt your rose. Nay, I have one that is withered and dearer to me. I came To say good night, little Alice. She does not remember my name. It is but the damp that is making my head and my heart ache so. I never was strong in the old time, as the others were, you know. And you 'll sleep well, will you not, Darling? The old words sound so dear! 'T is the last time I shall use them; you need show neither anger nor fear. It is well that you look so cheerful. And is time so smooth with you? How foolish I am! Good night, Dear. And bid Alice good night too. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LINCOLN by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER EXHORTATION TO PRAYER by MARGARET MERCER RIDDLE: TEETH AND GUMS by MOTHER GOOSE THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 26. MID-RAPTURE by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI INDIFFERENCE by GEOFFREY ANKETELL STUDDERT-KENNEDY SILEX SCINTIALLANS: THEY ARE ALL GONE by HENRY VAUGHAN |