Page:New Monthly 1825.pdf/14



a vow of faith to thee, By the red rose of June; I vow’d it by the rainbow, And by the silver moon. The red rose is departed, Fresh ones are blooming there; The rainbow has not left a shade Upon the azure air. And the Crescent moon has swell’d Into a golden round, And a sigh of chance and change On each and all are found. Then say not I have broken The faith I vow’d to thee; Change was made for all on earth,— Was it not made for me?