Classic Poem

A Rondeau

But yesterday the eglantine
Ran rioting beneath the shine
Of sunny skies: the meadow-lark
Made mad the ways until the dark
Lay down beneath the star-kissed pine.

Within the pools the dappled kine
Drowsed lazily or did recline
Within the shade, devoid of cark —
But yesterday.

There were no blood hues in the vine:
No wintry sobbing shook the brine:
Within the woods no eye might mark
The first heart-piercing, flame-tongued spark,
That blazes now. The world was mine
But yesterday