Three Songs

Old lilac bushes thin and grey
In wistful longing sigh
Dishevelled roses blush in vain;
No mistress lingers by.
The tansy creeps e'en to the door
Through garden tangles sweet
Gaunt apple trees their wizened fruit,
Strew at the master's feet;
And lo! a cricket bravely chirps
Throughout the lonely house,
But those who lov'd there long ago;
They sleep too deep to 'rouse.
Yet keep, O keep your trust to heart,
'Twill never last now long:
For house and ye shall pass away,
Yea! even as my song, my song.

Sunrise gilds the crested sea
That mocks grim Oban's might
But at his feet sways sullenly
A ship that died 'the night.

The ocean's breast doth throb no more
For such a wreck as she.
The rocks gnaw at her broken heart;
The sun shines pit'lessly.

A winsome morning measure
Trips merry maiden Spring,
O'er daffodils and daisies,
To crown the Summer king.

And once the king is crowned,
And twilight 'gins to fall,
Brown Autumn slips the postern gate
At grim old Winter's call.

But soon the rosy morning
With joyous songs shall ring
And daffodils and daisies
Will welcome merry Spring.