I.IT is a time before the rose Has blossomed to its form complete; Before the hidden fragrance knows How rare it is, and sweet. A time it is when hearts are light, And shadows are a thing as far Away as darkness from the sight Of evening’s brightest star. There is an undertone of song Vague, like the mists of early day; An undertone that steals along, Forever far away. II.The walls that guard King Love’s fair home Are tall and strong; yet cannot hold From those who by the gateway roam Some share of hoarded gold. So youth and maiden wandering near In straying beams of light are caught. Their eyes serene know not the tear Through fuller loving wrought. It lasts for just a little while; It is love’s playtime, one brief hour With tender sighing to beguile— A bud before the flower; It is a time before the rose Attains its fairest form complete; Before the subtle fragrance knows How rare it is, and sweet. |