Poem by Augusta Webster

My Loss

IN the world was one green nook I knew,
   Full of roses, roses red and white,
Reddest roses summer ever grew,
Whitest roses ever pearled with dew;
   And their sweetness was beyond delight,
Was all love's delight.

Wheresoever in the world I went,
   Roses were; for in my heart I took
Blow and blossom and bewildering scent;
Roses never with the summer spent,
   Roses always ripening in that nook,
Love's far summer nook.

In the world a soddened plot I know
   Blackening in this chill and misty air,
Set with shivering bushes in a row,
One by one the last leaves letting go:
   Wheresoe'er I turn I shall be there,
Always sighing there.

Ah, my folly! Ah, my loss, my pain!
   Dead, my roses that can blow no more!
Wherefore looked I on our nook again?
Wherefore went I after autumn's rain,
   Where the summer roses bloomed before,
Bloomed so sweet before?

1. Dearest, This One Day We Own
2. Her Memories
3. The Pine
4. White Rose and Red
5. Joy That's Half Too Keen, and True

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