“Qui Sait Aimer, Sait Mourir.”
“I burn my soul away!”
So spake the Rose and smiled; “within my cup
All day the sunbeams fall in flame, all day
They drink my sweetness up!”
“I sigh my soul away!”
The Lily said; “all night the moonbeams pale
Steal round and round me, whispering in their play
An all too tender tale!”
“I give my soul away!”
The Violet said; “the West wind wanders on,
The North wind comes; I know not what they say,
And yet my soul is gone!”
O Poet, burn away
Thy fervent soul! fond Lover at the feet
Of her thou lovest, sigh! dear Christian, pray,
And let the world be sweet!
Dora Greenwell.