Sedition·com (mature content)
Poems by Christina G. Rossetti

«·AN OCTOBER GARDEN. · PASSING AND GLASSING.·»

“SUMMER IS ENDED.”

To think that this meaningless thing was ever a rose
        Scentless, colorless, this!
  Will it ever be thus (who knows?)
          Thus with our bliss,
    If we wait till the close?

Though we care not to wait for the end, there comes the end
        Sooner, later, at last,
  Which nothing can mar, nothing mend:
          An end locked fast,
    Bent we cannot re-bend.


«·AN OCTOBER GARDEN. · PASSING AND GLASSING.·»