---

James Russell Lowell - The Token
Work rating: Low

It is a mere wild rosebud,
  Quite sallow now, and dry,
Yet there`s something wondrous in it,
  Some gleams of days gone by,
Dear sights and sounds that are to me
The very moons of memory,
And stir my heart`s blood far below
Its short-lived waves of joy and woe.

Lips must fade and roses wither,
  All sweet times be o`er;
They only smile, and, murmuring `Thither!`
  Stay with us no more:
And yet ofttimes a look or smile,
Forgotten in a kiss`s while,
Years after from the dark will start,
And flash across the trembling heart.

Thou hast given me many roses,
  But never one, like this,
O`erfloods both sense and spirit
  With such a deep, wild bliss;
We must have instincts that glean up
Sparse drops of this life in the cup,
Whose taste shall give us all that we
Can prove of immortality.

Earth`s stablest things are shadows,
  And, in the life to come.
Haply some chance-saved trifle
  May tell of this old home:
As now sometimes we seem to find,
In a dark crevice of the mind,
Some relic, which, long pondered o`er,
Hints faintly at a life before.
Source
The script ran 0.003 seconds.