I have seen the rose in the morning Perfuming drops of dew Yet hold a thought in the evening, The memory of you.
I have walked in the dust of the desert And over forgotten land, Yet hold to a thought in the gloaming That once I touched your hand.
I have tasted the fruit of the autumn Redolent of sun Yet hold a thought of the springtime When you and I were one.
Poems Undated (1727)
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