AN OCTOBER GARDEN
AN OCTOBER GARDEN
In my Autumn garden I was fain
To mourn among my scattered roses;
Alas for that last rosebud which uncloses
To Autumn’s languid sun and rain
When all the world is on the wane!
Which has not felt the sweet constraint of June,
Nor heard the nightingale in tune.
Broad-faced asters by my garden walk,
You are but coarse compared with roses:
More choice, more dear that rosebud which uncloses
Faint-scented, pinched, upon its stalk,
That least and last which cold winds balk;
A rose it is though least and last of all,
A rose to me though at the fall.
Sir Edward Coley Burne-Jones LOVE AMONG THE RUINS Oil on canvas. 1894 Wightwick Manor, Wolverhampton
Эдуард Коули Бёрн-Джонс ЛЮБОВЬ СРЕДИ РУИН Холст, масло. 1894 Уайтвик-мэнор, Уолверхэмптон