Classic Poem

Rose-bloom and lilies that no frost can kill;
Visions of youthful grace that yet persist;
Maidens with pleading arms at twilight tryst,
Ye were the lures that made the young heart thrill:
For you the passion, unrequited still;
O vanished lips that loved us, never kissed,
Only the worn heart knows what it hath missed—
How Heaven itself can not that dream fulfill!

Dear wraiths of Maidens bearing fragrant urns
Exhaling incense of remembered years
When we, in shadowy walks of woodland ferns
Poured out our first-love in those tender vows,
Ah, linger yet, as fast our twilight nears,
Oh, cheer the heart where embered fire burns!