MAY AND DECEMBER.
There are flowers for me as for you, my darling; For both hath the wind a tale ; For me the ice-wind, mourning and snarling, For yoa the sigh of the warm spring gale ; White buds for both — the bridal wreath Is yours, and mine is the decking of death. Which is more blessed — the new incomer, Or she who leaves the ring ? Spring must fear the toiling of summer. But winter dreams of a sweet new spring. I falter now, who tripped with the best ; But the revel grew weary, and night brings rest! May and December — we meet together; You scarcely feel the yoke j I feel the loosening of my tether, Look for freedom and greeting my folk : My hopes are blooming as yours, my child, There are bushes that blossom in winter wild. The sweet white thorn in chill December, Somewhere down in the West, Puts forth its buds — so men remember The spring-time, of all times the best, And long for its coming — as I look out For the coming spring, with never a doubt
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NEM18761104.2.18.2.1
Bibliographic details
Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XI, Issue 238, 4 November 1876, Page 1
Word Count
182MAY AND DECEMBER. Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XI, Issue 238, 4 November 1876, Page 1
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