The vernal visitation of the rose;

And, far from all delights, prepare my heart's repose.

Strive how I may, I cannot slumber so:

Still burns that sleepless beauty on the mind;

Still insupportable those visions glow;

And hark! my spirit's aspirations find

An answer in the leaves, a warning on the wind.

[32]

'O crave not silence thou! too soon, too sure,

Shall Autumn come, and through these branches weep:

Soon birds shall cease, and flowers no more endure;

And thou beneath the mould unwilling creep,

And silent soon shalt be in that eternal sleep.

'Green still it is, where that fair goddess strays;

Then follow, till around thee all be sere.

Lose not a vision of her passing face;

Nor miss the sound of her soft robes, that here

Sweep over the wet leaves of the fast-falling year.'

Manmohan Ghose.

Manmohan Ghose.

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