Cast in Time’s furrow with the storm winds blowing
Bears me a wild crop with strange fancies on it.
Last year I wore your sole rose in my bonnet.
This year–who knows–who, even the All–knowing,
What to my vagrant heart, for its undoing,
Of weeds shall blossom ere my tears atone it?
–New Spring is in the air with new desirings;
New wonders fructify Earth, Sea, and Heaven,
And happy birds sing loud from a new nest.
Ah, why then grieve Love’s recreant aspirings,
His last year’s hopes, his vows forgot, forgiven?
Child, be we comforted! New things are best.