Classic Poem

Within a perfumed garden of the Past
Fair flowers spread their petals in the sun:
Some crimsoned with the dawn-glow, and some pale
With wannest lily beauty, white as nights
Filled full of argent moonlight. Withered buds
There are some of, their yellow leaves grown dry:
These are the sorrows that my heart has known
In years gone by … Each Rose recalls a joy,
Each Lily a fair moment in my youth;
Sweet garden of the Past, my memory!