What Though the Green Leaf Grow?

by Maybury Fleming English

’T will last a month and day;
In all sweet flowers that blow
Lurks Death, his slave Decay.

But if my lady smile
There is no Death at all;
The world is fair the while,—
What though the red leaf fall?

More poems by Maybury Fleming

To Demeter

Thou ever young! Persephone but gazes
Upon thy face, and shows thee back thine own;
And every flock that on thy hillsides grazes, …
To Sleep

Sweet wooded way in life, forgetful Sleep!
Dim, drowsy realm where restful shadows fall,
And where the world’s glare enters not at all, …

All poems by Maybury Fleming →