I am here at the gate alone ; 

 And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad 

 And the musk of the rose is blown. 



All night have the roses heard 



The flute, violin, bassoon ; 

 All night has the casement jessamine stir'd 



To the dancers dancing in tune ; 

 Till a silence fell with the waking bird, 



And a hush with the setting moon. 



* * * * * * * 



Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls, 

 Come hither, the dances are done, 



In gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls, 

 Queen lily and rose in one ; 



Shine out, little head, sunning over with curls, 

 To the flowers, and be their sun. 



Alfred, Lord Tennyson. 



A Little Song 



The sunset in the rosy west 



Burned soft and high : 

 A shore-lark fell like a stone to his nest 



In the waving rye, 



A wind came over the garden beds 



From the dreamy lawn, 

 The pansies nodded their purple heads, 



The poppies began to yawn. 



One pansy said: It is only Sleep, 



Only his gentle breath: 

 But a rose lay strewn in a snowy heap, 



For the rose it was only death. 



Heigho, we've only one life to live, 

 And only one death to die : 



