When this, our rose, is faded, And these, our days, are done, In lands profoundly shaded From tempest and from sun: Ah, once more come together, Shall we forgive the past, And safe from worldly weather Possess our souls at last? Or in our place of shadows Shall still we stretch and hand To green, remembered meadows, Of that old pleasant land? And vainly there foregathered, Shall we regret the sun? The rose of love, ungathered? The bay, we have not won? Ah, child! the world's dark marges May lead to Nevermore, The stately funeral barges Sail for an unknown shore, And love we vow to-morrow, And pride we serve to-day: What if they both should borrow Sad hues of yesterday? Our pride! Ah, should we miss it, Or will it serve at last? Our anger, if we kiss it, Is like a sorrow past. While roses deck the garden, While yet the sun is high, Doff sorry pride for pardon, Or ever love go by. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...INFANT SORROW, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE FAREWELL TO LOVE; SONNET by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE GETTYSBURG ADDRESS by ABRAHAM LINCOLN DEATH THE LEVELLER, FR. THE CONTENTION OF AJAX AND ULYSSES by JAMES SHIRLEY FOREIGN CHILDREN by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON |