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Poem by Florence Earle Coates


Probation


Full slow to part with her best gifts is Fate;
The choicest fruitage comes not with the spring,
But still for summer's mellowing touch must wait,Ч
For storms and tears, which season'd excellence bring;
And Love doth fix his joyfullest estate
In hearts that have been hushed 'neath Sorrow's brooding wing.


Youth sues to Fame: coldly she answers, "Toil!"
He sighs for Nature's treasures: with reserve
Responds the goddess, "Woo them from the soil."
Then fervently he cries, "Thee will I serve,Ч
Thee only, blissful Love!" With proud recoil
The heavenly boy replies, "To serve me well, deserve!"



Florence Earle Coates


Florence Earle Coates's other poems:
  1. An Idler
  2. Before the Hour
  3. Tennyson
  4. Sappho
  5. Combatants


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