IN the green and gallant Spring,
Love and the lyre I thought to sing,
And kisses sweet to give and take
By the flowery hawthorn brake.
Now is russet Autumn here,
Death and the grave and winter drear,
And I must ponder here aloof
While the rain is on the roof.
More verses by Robert Louis Stevenson
- Still I Love To Rhyme
- The Wind Blew Shrill And Smart
- Katherine
- Come From The Daisied Meadows
- Had I The Power That Have The Will