Nothing is new, I have seen the spring too often; There have been other plum-trees white as this one Like a silvery cloud tethered beside the road, I have been waked from sleep too many times By birds at dawn boasting their love is beautiful. The grass-blades gleam in the wind, nothing is changed. Nothing is lost, it is all as it used to be, Unopened lilacs are still as deep a purple, The boughs of the elm are dancing still in a veil of tiny leaves, Nothing is lost but a few years from my life. |