Rosemary

GREEN bud-stars spangle

The dead, black tree;

Bloom's in a tangle

On holt and lea:

Now elm-boughs shade me,

Now birds have sung,

O heart, persuade me

I still am young!

Ah, no; heart, hush thee!

Be wise, serene,

Lest snow-wreaths crush thee

Ere Hallowe'en;

Though June be jolly,

Though flowers be sweet,

'Tis naught but folly,

And fond deceit.

Heart, thou hast finished

With joys that fade;

Thy strength diminished,

Thy light decayed!

The brain is an ember;

The blood is cold--

O heart, remember

We both are old!

Sir Edmund William Gosse