|ELCore.Net > Poetry > Catholic Poets > Poems of Ernest Dowson|
See how the trees and the osiers lithe|
Are green bedecked and the woods are blithe,
The meadows have donned their cape of flowers,
The air is soft with the sweet May showers,
And the birds make melody:
But the spring of the soul, the spring of the soul,
Cometh no more for you or for me.
The lazy hum of the busy bees|
Murmureth through the almond trees;
The jonquil flaunteth a gay, blonde head,
The primrose peeps from a mossy bed,
And the violets scent the lane.
But the flowers of the soul, the flowers of the soul,
For you and for me bloom never again.
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Lane Core Jr. (email@example.com)
Created November 13, 2002; not revised.