Song

Oh! roses for the flush of youth,

And laurel for the perfect prime;

But pluck an ivy-branch for me,

Grown old before my time.

Oh! violets for the grave of youth,

And bay for those dead in their prime;

Give me the withered leaves I chose

Before in the olden time.

The Germ: Thoughts towards Nature in Poetry, Literature and Art · 第 31 / 90 题