Song

by T. S. Eliot

song_eliotWhen we came home across the hill
    No leaves were fallen from the trees;
    The gentle fingers of the breeze
Had torn no quivering cobweb down.
.

The hedgerow bloomed with flowers still,
    No withered petals lay beneath;
    But the wild roses in your wreath
Were faded, and the leaves were brown.
.
“Song” was published in Vol. 83, No. 6, 
of The Harvard Advocate on May 24, 1907.

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