O love, do you remember, When you and I were wed, That sun ... a golden ember ... Those hills ... a regal red? It was not old November With ashes on her head; It was not cold December In mantle dun and lead: 'T was burning, bold September, 'T was gorgeous, gold September, 'T was scarlet-stoled September When you and I were wed. It was not April heaping The snowdrops on her head; It was not summer sleeping With poppies round her bed; It was not winter faring With slow and sullen tread, For ball and sceptre bearing A withered staff instead: 'T was golden-globed September, Sceptered and globed September, 'T was royal-robed September When you and I were wed. 'T was not Love's hour of roses: They faded ere he fled From sun-forsaken closes Where all his dreams lay dead— With mantle frayed and flying And wounded wings outspread ... To his own kingdom, lying Guerdoned and garlanded. 'T was glory-rolled September,— Fold-upon-fold September, Purple and gold September, When you and I were wed. Ah, sweet, do you remember? We lauded Love and said: "Now June and not December Be counted drear and dread; Love kept his daffodillies Till all their gold was dead: He slept among his lilies Till all their gold was shed; But then he gave September, The bright and brave September, And now, @3God save September, When you and I are wed!"@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LAUGHTER (YOUTH SPEAKS TO HIS OWN OLD AGE) by CONRAD AIKEN PRIDE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON WHEN I RISE UP by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ACROSS THE RED SKY by KATHERINE MANSFIELD BROTHERHOOD (2) by EDWIN MARKHAM SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: DOW BRITT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |