PERFECT LIFE AND WORK .

The beautiful things of the May are dying,
The clustered lilacs turn pale and sere;
The lilies rusty and limp are lying,
And we mourn for May with the rosebuds near.

The beautiful things of the May are flying,
The pink and white fruit-blooms wing the breeze,
And oh! what a beautiful death — in sighing
To vanish away from sight like these.

The beautiful things of the May are dying,
But lo! there are some that linger late; —
For the apple-blossoms, the winds defying,
In all their roseate glory wait.

And soon will these beautiful things be flying,
Before they are touched by a dark decay;
Yet what they leave here will begin supplying
Fruit that will last through another May.