In the green and gallant Spring

In the green and gallant Spring

IN the green and gallant Spring,
Love and the lyre I thought to sing,
And kisses sweet to give and take
By the flowery hawthorn brake.

Now is russet Autumn here,
Death and the grave and winter drear,
And I must ponder here aloof
While the rain is on the roof.

-THE END-
Robert Louis Stevenson's poem: In the green and gallant Spring

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