QUI DOCET, DISCIT.
Reading edition
I.
When all the world was white with flowers, And Summer, in her sun-built towers, Stood smiling 'mid her handmaid Hours, Who robed her limbs for bridal; Somewhere between the golden sands And purple hills of Folly's lands, Love, with a laugh, let go our hands, And left our sides to idle.
II.
Now all the world is red with doom, And Autumn, in her frost-carved room, Bends darkly o'er the gipsy loom Of memories she weaves there; Who knocks at night upon the door, All travel-worn and pale and poor?— Open! and let him in once more, The Love that stands and grieves there.