RONDEAU.

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In vain we call to youth, "Return!"
In vain to fires, "Waste not, yet burn!"
In vain to all life's happy things,
"Give the days song—give the hours wings!
Let us lose naught—yet always learn!"
The tongue must lose youth, as it sings—
New knowledge still new sorrow brings:
Oh, sweet lost youth, for which we yearn
In vain!
But even this hour from which ye turn—
Impatient—o'er its funeral urn
Your soul with mad importunings
Will cry, "Come back, lost hour!" So rings
Ever the cry of those who yearn
In vain.

E. Nesbit.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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