61
THE SEED.
Scarce had my flower bloomed when one
By one its crimson petals fell;
Touched by some change inscrutable
Its life and loveliness were done.
And with it something in my heart
Suddenly passed and was no more,
As if a hand had closed the door
Where Beauty, dreaming, sat apart.
O life, O loveliness, how brief!
How soon the costly wine is spilled—
The casket sealed, the laughter stilled!
But O, how long, how endless, grief!
So musing, mourning, I complained,
When lo! a seed replaced my flower;
All that was drawn from sun and shower
In substance still to me remained.
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