The Days that Remain
They will not be so long from dawn to dark,
The few, — the golden-few days that remain!
They will not see the red rose laugh again,
And in their morning skies will be no lark.
Hope will not run, a wild-fire, from the spark
The fervid Hours may scatter in their train.
They will not be so rich in joy or pain;
But no despair of theirs shall loom so stark!
The few, the priceless-few days that remain,
Ere I upon the unknown Deep embark,
I bend to them, and to their speech I hark —
The wild bright days that were they can explain!
Yet there be those who pity when they mark
How I do prize the few days that remain!
The few, — the golden-few days that remain!
They will not see the red rose laugh again,
And in their morning skies will be no lark.
Hope will not run, a wild-fire, from the spark
The fervid Hours may scatter in their train.
They will not be so rich in joy or pain;
But no despair of theirs shall loom so stark!
The few, the priceless-few days that remain,
Ere I upon the unknown Deep embark,
I bend to them, and to their speech I hark —
The wild bright days that were they can explain!
Yet there be those who pity when they mark
How I do prize the few days that remain!
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.