Classic Poem

As one through some beloved garden strays
For the last time, and, lingering, stays to break
A blossom here and there for old love's sake,
So I go back through our lost yesterdays
And cull my fragrant memories — your praise
And pride of me, the songs we used to make,
The happy name you gave me. Oh, I take
So little ere I face the untried ways.
How will it be, dear, when I look on these
My gathered roses in the years to be?
Shall I behold love's garden all ablow
As once we knew it, or, as one who sees
That place he loved, deserted utterly,
Given to emptiness and wind and snow?