Roses about my way, and roses still! 0, I must pick and have my very fill! Red for my heart and white upon my hair And still I shall have roses and to spare! My child, I save thee thorns! Dear little friend,...
The bride, she wears a white, white rose, the plucking, it was mine; The poet wears a laurel wreath, and I the laurel twine; And oh, the child, your little child, that's clinging close to you,...
Dost thou burn low and tremble, all but die? And dost thou fear in darkness to be whirled? Nay, flame, thou art mine immortality, The wind is but the passing of the world!
Pass, pass, you fiery spirit! Never bland And halting never! Hosted round to-night, At the great wall, with spears of lifted light, Held by embattled seraphim, who stand...
Stand up, you Strong! Touch glasses! To the Weak! The Weak who fight: or habit or disease, Birth, chance, or ignorance, or awful wreak Of some lost forbear, who has drained the cup...