Classic Poem

The garden of my soul grows duller;
But one sweet bloom scents all the air;
One scarlet blossom keeps its colour,
The sinful flower you planted there.

In those cold winter days the willows
Hung frosted by the river bank,
And virgin snow in drifting billows
Along the margin rose and sank.

In those cold Winter days and frozen,
When driving north-winds left their smart,
I — I of all the world was chosen
To nestle warm against your heart.

And in your room it mattered little
The cruel ending of the year,
The ice-bound Empire chill and brittle,
Because I loved, and you were near.

And even to-day as life grows duller,
The garden of my soul looks fair,
For one deep blossom keeps its colour,
The scarlet sin you planted there.