To Blossoms
Fair fledges of a fruitful tree,1
Why do ye fall so fast ?2
Your date is not so past,3
But you may stay yet here awhile,4
To blush and gently smile,5
And go at last.6
What, were ye born to be7
An hour or half’s delight,8
And so to bid good-night ?9
Twas pity nature brought ye forth,10
Merely to show your worth,11
And lose you quite.12
But you are lovely leaves, where we13
May read how soon things have14
Their end, though ne’er so brave ;15
And after they have shown their pride16
Like you awhile, they glide17
Into the grave.18