The garden of love; flowers gathered from the poets . saints,—I love thee with the , tears, of all my life !—and if God choose,I shall but love thee better after death. E. B. Browning. CCXXI. Remain, ah ! not in Youth Alone 73 EMAIN, ah ! not in youth alone, ^^ Tho youth, where you are, long will stay ; But when my summer days are gone, And my autumnal haste I be always by your side? No ; but the hours you can, you rise at Deaths approaching stride. Nor go when dust is gone to dust. W. S. 310 XXII. Twilight and Autumn Violets Farewells XXII T T E did not
The garden of love; flowers gathered from the poets . saints,—I love thee with the , tears, of all my life !—and if God choose,I shall but love thee better after death. E. B. Browning. CCXXI. Remain, ah ! not in Youth Alone 73 EMAIN, ah ! not in youth alone, ^^ Tho youth, where you are, long will stay ; But when my summer days are gone, And my autumnal haste I be always by your side? No ; but the hours you can, you rise at Deaths approaching stride. Nor go when dust is gone to dust. W. S. 310 XXII. Twilight and Autumn Violets Farewells XXII T T E did not dare to stay. But, throwing himself?*- ?*? into the carriage, lie cast one look towardsthe window of the Dark Ladie, and a momentafterwards had left her for ever. He had drunkthe last drop of the bitter cup, and now lay thegolden goblet gently down, knowing that he shouldbehold it no more. No more ! O, how majesticallymournful are those words ! They sound like theroar of the wind through a forest of pines ! H. W. Long^felloiv, - ^^v#w; CCXXII. Then, Fare Thee Well J. ^ I ^HEN, fare thee well, my own dear love,-*- This world has now for usNo greater grief, no pain aboveThe pain of parting thus. Dear love !The pain of parting thus. Had we but known, since first we met. Some few short hours of might, in numbring them, forget The deep, deep pain of love ! The deep, deep pain of this. But no, alas ! weve never seen One glimpse of pleasures still there came some cloud between, And chased it all love ! And chased it all away. The Garden of Love. ^j-j O Yet, evn could those sad moments last, Far dearer to my heart,Were hours of grief, together past. Than years of mirth apart,Dear love ! Than years of mirth apart. Farewell ! our hope was born in fears. And nursed mid vain regrets ;Like winter suns, it rose in tears,Like them in tears it sets, Dear love !Like them in tears it sets. Thomas Moore. CCXXIII. Exit e^ e^ e^ e^ e^ I ^HAT time
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