  Companion to "Leaf by Leaf the Roses Fall." True, ah, true, the roses fall, And in drops the springs run dry; Slowly, surely, past recall, Summer beauties hasten by. True, the roses bloom again And the springs gush forth anew, Singing sweeter for the pain That could check but not subdue. Ay, we know how deepest gloom Makes the springs of gladness fail; But when in their richest bloom Droop the roses, wan and pale; Search and find the hope that strives, Poor, downtrodden germ apart; Nurture kindly till it thrives, Fairest blossom of the heart. Dark may be the days and years Strewn with leaves of roses dead; Smile we brighter for the tears When the northern winds have fled. Singer sweet, the thought is true,— Roses fade and springs run dry; But there's nothing old or new That has life can ever die. Sweetest hopes must needs be fed If they'd spring to life anew, When grief's winter shall have fled, Giving place to sun and dew; When earth withers like the rose, All its treasure leaves closed up, Then that other blossom blows Life immortal in its cup. |
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