When they reached where Laura was
Odorous indeed must be the mead
And, when its notes awake again,
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
To swift decay and burn
Or like a caged thing freed,
In a night, or in a day,
Her fire away.
Is it therefore the less gone?
Apricots, strawberries;—
When they reached where Laura was
Odorous indeed must be the mead
And, when its notes awake again,
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
To swift decay and burn
Or like a caged thing freed,
In a night, or in a day,
Her fire away.
Is it therefore the less gone?
Apricots, strawberries;—