My Loss

IN the world was one green nook I knew,

   Full of roses, roses red and white,

Reddest roses summer ever grew,

Whitest roses ever pearled with dew;

   And their sweetness was beyond delight,

Was all love's delight.

Wheresoever in the world I went,

   Roses were; for in my heart I took

Blow and blossom and bewildering scent;

Roses never with the summer spent,

   Roses always ripening in that nook,

Love's far summer nook.

In the world a soddened plot I know

   Blackening in this chill and misty air,

Set with shivering bushes in a row,

One by one the last leaves letting go:

   Wheresoe'er I turn I shall be there,

Always sighing there.

Ah, my folly! Ah, my loss, my pain!

   Dead, my roses that can blow no more!

Wherefore looked I on our nook again?

Wherefore went I after autumn's rain,

   Where the summer roses bloomed before,

Bloomed so sweet before?