I SET a lily long ago; <br />I watched it whiten in the sun; <br />I loved it well, I had but one. <br />Then summer-time was done, <br />The wind came and the rain, <br />My lily bent, lay low. <br />Only the night-time sees my pain— <br />Alas, my lily long ago! <br /> <br />I had a rose-tree born in May; <br />I watched it burgeon and grow red, <br />I breathed the perfume that it shed. <br />Then summer-time had sped, <br />The frost came with its sleep <br />My rose-tree died away. <br />Only the silence hears me weep— <br />Alas, lost rose-tree! lost, lost May! <br /> <br />The garden's lily blows once more; <br />The buried rose will wake and climb; <br />There is no thought of rain and rime <br />After, next summer-time. <br />But the heart's blooms are weak; <br />Once dead for ever o'er. <br />Not night, not silence knows me seek <br />My joy that waned and blooms no more.<br /><br />Augusta Davies Webster<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/once-54/
