AH, Pierrot, <br />Where is thy Columbine? <br />What vandal could untwine <br />That gay rose-rope of thine, <br />And spill thy joy like wine, <br />Poor Pierrot? <br /> <br />Ah, Pierrot, <br />The moon is rising red <br />Above thy grief-bowed head; <br />Thy roses are all shed. <br />And Columbine is dead! <br />Poor Pierrot! <br /> <br />Ah, Pierrot, <br />Kneel down beside her tomb. <br />The gray wind of the gloom, <br />In the world's empty room, <br />Has shut the door of doom. <br />Poor Pierrot! <br /> <br />Ah, Pierrot, <br />Is there not one sweet word <br />Of brook or breeze or bird <br />A mortal ever heard, <br />Could cheer thee—not one word, <br />Poor Pierrot? <br /> <br />Ah, Pierrot, <br />A thousand times the spring <br />Will come to dance and sing <br />Up the green earth, and bring <br />Joy to each living thing, <br />Poor Pierrot! <br /> <br />But, Pierrot, <br />When all that pomp shall pass <br />Her lowly house in the grass, <br />Will any say, 'Alas, <br />Poor Columbine; alas, <br />Poor Pierrot'? <br /> <br />Ah, Pierrot, <br />Thy loving tears in vain <br />Shall fall like quiet rain <br />For her; till the stars wane, <br />She will not come again, <br />Poor Pierrot. <br /> <br />Yet, Pierrot, <br />The mighty Mother now <br />Hath her in care somehow. <br />Listen, and clear that brow: <br />'O earthling, grieve not thou, <br />Poor Pierrot! <br /> <br />'Ah, Pierrot, <br />Here on my cool green floor <br />I do transmute, restore, <br />All things once fair before <br />To beauty more and more. <br />Poor Pierrot!'<br /><br />Bliss William Carman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-columbine-s-grave/
