Ernest Charles Jones (Эрнест Чарльз Джонс)

Too Soon

'Mid the glories of youth's garden-land
    I gathered a wreath of flowers,
And I bound them all in a band
    Of pleasure's and hope's golden hours.

I gathered them fair and bright,
    And wore them a short sunny day;
Overpowered at length with delight
    In oblivious slumber I lay.

When I woke—oh! I clasped them again,
    But ah! all their beauty was o'er,
And I sought for a fresh wreath in vain;
    I could meet with those flowers no more!

Alas! I had gathered them all,
    Ere the blossom had ripened to bloom,
Nor could I their freshness recall!
    I had gathered my flowers too soon!

1. Our Warning
2. A Prisoner's Night-Thought
3. Easter Hymn
4. Prison Bars
5. A Song for the People

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