Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1824.pdf/86

85 Literary Gazette, 25th December, 1824, Pages 825-826

FADED FLOWERS. Lingers yet a perfum'd breath Even mid these flowers' death? Once on these dry leaves was red, Like that o'er the ruby shed; Yellow, like the serpentine Of the rainbow's softest line; Blue, like that of April's sky; Purple, like the Tyrian dye; Not one hue is left, of all That lighted up this coronal! Were it not for the perfume, Haunting, like a ghost, their tomb, Who would dream that they had been Fairies of a summer scene! Passing thus with time away, The sweet gifts of youth decay; Fleet their blooms, thus one by one, Till their very form is gone; Memory left but to declare How beautiful and sweet they were! In the first blue noon of Spring, Who can think on withering? Sear'd leaf and scentless flower Seem'd but made for Autumn's hour; Yet how much of blight and doom Mingles with May's breath and bloom! And the faded blossoms fall As November ruled them all. Youth and spring are both alike; Flowers rise and pleasures strike— These, to fade, and those to be Nothing in reality— Till the heart is like a bed, But, with yellow leaves o'erspread; With the faintest odour left, As to make them more bereft; By recalling what they were, And yet being what they are!