Page:Roses in Rain, by Lilian Wooster Greaves, 1910.pdf/35



Her sweet brief reign was ended, and in showers
 * Of soft warm tears she wept her fond

farewell; And one by one the solemn, silent hours
 * Kissed her wet face with grief too deep

to tell.

The mournful mornings wore a veil of mist;
 * Day drew full soon her blinds of twilight

grey; The evening breeze must wander where it list—
 * Earth cared not, since fair Summer must

away.

And Autumn in her rustling robe of red,
 * Her crown of gold upon her tawny hair,

Laid her brown hand upon the stricken head,
 * And whispered, “Why these tears, my

sister fair?