Classic Poem

Spirit of old-time roses, when the glow
Of eventide steals softly through the trees
Like rosy petals falling, and the breeze
Grows hushed until it sings a love-song, low
And sweet and tender, then I seem to know
You too are somewhere near and watching these
Last wondrous sights of day--God's mysteries
We used to watch together long ago.

And, like a benediction, happiness
Fills all my soul, as if a wandering breath
From that high heaven had wafted down to me--
As if I felt again your dear caress
And knew you to be waiting e'er in death,
Crowned with the roses of eternity.