LOVE'S EASTER.
By Andrew Lang
Love died here
Long ago;
O'er his bier,
Lying low,
Poppies throw;
Shed no tear;
Year by year,
Roses blow!
Year by year,
Adon — dear
To Love's Queen —
Does not die!
Wakes when green
May is nigh!
By Andrew Lang
Love died here
Long ago;
O'er his bier,
Lying low,
Poppies throw;
Shed no tear;
Year by year,
Roses blow!
Year by year,
Adon — dear
To Love's Queen —
Does not die!
Wakes when green
May is nigh!