OPPORTUNITY
She leaned out from the lattice
At the budding of the mom,
The Sim was on the hill-tops,
The dew was on the thorn.
The willful climbing roses
Above her wove a crown,
And wreathed her queen of maidens
As he came riding down.
At the budding of the mom,
The Sim was on the hill-tops,
The dew was on the thorn.
The willful climbing roses
Above her wove a crown,
And wreathed her queen of maidens
As he came riding down.
He checked his horse's gallop
And dallied by the way,
Smiling and gazing on her,
Loath to go and loath to stay;
For he thought, "The sweet tomorrow
Waits upon my delays,
Then wherefore haste to gather
The flower that blooms always?
And dallied by the way,
Smiling and gazing on her,
Loath to go and loath to stay;
For he thought, "The sweet tomorrow
Waits upon my delays,
Then wherefore haste to gather
The flower that blooms always?
Where she blossoms I can find her
Before the season's flight,
Blushing beside her lattice,
And smiling in the light.
So shall I waste the morning,
The dew upon the way,
In reaching for a posy
That opens every day?"
Before the season's flight,
Blushing beside her lattice,
And smiling in the light.
So shall I waste the morning,
The dew upon the way,
In reaching for a posy
That opens every day?"
He passed—the sunshine with him,—
The dew dried on the thorn,
The roses dropped their petals
That crowned her queen at morn.
Yet once, when his heart was weary,
And life of glory shorn,
He turned him to her lattice,—
But she and the roses were gone!
The dew dried on the thorn,
The roses dropped their petals
That crowned her queen at morn.
Yet once, when his heart was weary,
And life of glory shorn,
He turned him to her lattice,—
But she and the roses were gone!
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