Edmund William Gosse

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!