Page:The ascent of man by Blind, Mathilde.djvu/191

Rh

, the roses are still on fire
 * With the bygone heat of July,
 * Though the least little wind drifting by

Shake a rose-leaf or two from the brier,
 * Be it never so soft a sigh.

Ember of love still glows and lingers
 * Deep at the red heart's smouldering core;
 * With the sudden passionate throb of yore

We shook as our eyes and clinging fingers
 * Met once only to meet no more.