At Twilight

The roses of yesteryear Were all of them white and red: It fills my heart with silent fear To find all their beauty fled. The roses of white are sere, All faded the roses of red; And one who loves me is not here, And one that I love is dead.

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  • The roses of yesteryear Were all of them white and red: It fills my heart with silent fear To find all their beauty fled. The roses of white are sere, All faded the roses of red; And one who loves me is not here, And one that I love is dead.