When Love Is Young

In Summer, when the days are long,
The roses and the lilies talk —
Beneath the trees young lovers walk,
And glad birds coo their wooing song.

In Autumn, when the days are brief,
Roses and lilies turn to dust —
Lovers grow old, as all men must,
And birds shun trees that have no leaf.

Then, youth, be glad, in love's brief day!
Pluck life's best blossom while you can —
Time has his will of every man —
From leafless hearts love turns away.
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