Page:The Bengali Book of English Verse.djvu/130

98  From objects whirling with the earth's swift motion, And now I think I'll wander never more, What, if those secrets waited at my door?"

 

 

Alas, alas!—the roses cried despairing, That leaf by leaf our glory should decay! That all our splendours should be earth and clay, And dream-like fade for all our crimson daring! No more the winds our raptures wide are bearing, —No more our fragrance doth uplift the day, And passionate pilgrims now no more do stray, Around us dreamless, death's dark splendours wearing! 