SOON our friends perish,
Soon all we cherish
Fades as days darken - goes as flowers go.
Soon in December
Over an ember,
Lonely we hearken, as loud winds blow.
More verses by Robert Louis Stevenson
- To Mrs. Macmarland
- Home, My Little Children, Hear Are Songs For You
- I Dreamed Of Forest Alleys Fair
- Late, O Miller
- Epitaphium Erotii
