This priceless book is bought
With sighs and tears untold,
Of votaries who sought
His countenance of old—
This book of hours Love wrought
With burnished letters gold.
Walter Crane.
RONDEL.
When time upon the wing
A swallow heedless flies,
Love-birds forget to sing
Beneath the lucent skies.
For now belated spring
With her last blossom hies,
When time upon the wing
A swallow heedless flies.
What summer hope shall bring
To wistful dreaming eyes?
What fateful forecast fling
Before life's last surprise?
When time upon the wing
A swallow heedless flies.
Walter Crane.
THE WANDERER.
(Rondel.)