From the German by Alice Duer Miller ONCE for thy brow a wreath I wished to wind, And, seeking long, I could no flowers find. Now golden flowers are blooming far and near, But, ah! dear love, thou art no longer here. Tags: love poemlove poemslove poems for herlove poetrypoems about loveromantic poemsShort PoemsRate this poem: Report SPAM Reviews Post review No reviews yet. Report violation Log in or register to post comments
