1 min read
Слушать(AI)When the Rose is Faded
When the rose is faded,
Memory may still dwell on Her beauty shadowed,
And the sweet smell gone.
That vanishing loveliness,
That burdening breath,
No bond of life hath then,
Nor grief of death. 'Tis the immortal thought Whose passion still Makes the changing The unchangeable.
Oh, thus thy beauty,
Loveliest on earth to me,
Dark with no sorrow, shines And burns, with thee.
Walter de la Mare
Walter John de la Mare (25 April 1873 – 22 June 1956) was an English poet, short story writer, and novelist. He is probably best remembered for
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
Bones
Said Mr Smith, “I really Tell you, Dr
Napoleon
'What is the world, O soldiers It is I: I, this incessant snow, This northern sky;
The Song Of Shadows
Sweep thy faint strings, Musician, With thy long lean hand; Downward the starry tapers burn,
Nod
Softly along the road of evening, In a twilight dim with rose, Wrinkled with age, and drenched with dew Old Nod, the shepherd, goes His drowsy flock streams on before him, Their fleeces charged with gold, To where the sun's last beam leans lo...