SONG
Reading edition
O shadows past the candle-gleam, so brief to pause in flight, Are shadows that can come no more Still moving unseen on the door Of Yesternight? O roses on the crumbling wall, so soon to droop and die, Are any roses that are dead Still fragrant where their petals bled In Junes gone by? O heart of mine, there is a face nor grief nor prayer can bring.... Think you in some far Shadow-land One keeps my roses in his hand, Remembering?
Boston Transcript Ruth Guthrie Harding