Classic Poem

She was a breath of springtime —
The violet's dim perfume
She brought a sense of purity,
Of beauty and of bloom.

Her hair was as the chestnut,
Her cheek the mountain rose;
Her neck was like the lily white
That in seclusion grows.

She seemed of youth so vibrant
A joy to heart and eye —
To look at her, one scarce could think
Such loveliness could die.

But a sorrow fell upon me
When I saw her in her shroud,
As on the hills of summer
Falls the shadow of a cloud;

And when I think of all she was —
Her sweet and gentle ways,
Oh, the shadow darkly deepens
Round the sunset of my days!