10.08.2014, 13:31
DISINHERITED
I BUILT my life in thee; in that dear nest
Hope carolled o'er her fledgelings day by day,
Bodeless of hours when they should fly away,
And leave bereaved and lorn her gentle breast.
My sunlight was thy smile, and I was blest;
Till round the rose-strewn path where I did stray
Gathered unhallowed vapors, chill and gray,
And ominous clouds frowned from the darkened west.
But now I know not, oh ! I know not, where
The wild fresh beauty of our morn hath fled;
The world, grown aged, is no longer fair;
The dewless petals of the rose are shed;
Love lies discrowned and dumb — he that was heir
Of all our dreams — and dust is on his head.
I BUILT my life in thee; in that dear nest
Hope carolled o'er her fledgelings day by day,
Bodeless of hours when they should fly away,
And leave bereaved and lorn her gentle breast.
My sunlight was thy smile, and I was blest;
Till round the rose-strewn path where I did stray
Gathered unhallowed vapors, chill and gray,
And ominous clouds frowned from the darkened west.
But now I know not, oh ! I know not, where
The wild fresh beauty of our morn hath fled;
The world, grown aged, is no longer fair;
The dewless petals of the rose are shed;
Love lies discrowned and dumb — he that was heir
Of all our dreams — and dust is on his head.