The Flower of Sorrow

Summer comes and summer goes,
But all months of all years
There is falling of tears;
Summer comes and summer goes,
All hours are grief's, and the sower sows:
To-day and to-morrow
The Flower of Sorrow
Buds and blows.

poem by John Vance Cheney from Century Magazine, Volume 47, Issue 5 (1894)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Fairy Grave

Let a little grave be made,
Half in shadow, half in shade,
In a quiet, kindly place,
Friendly as her face.

Let the passing fairy bird
From his airy height be heard;
Ever, ever for that ground
Only gentle sound.

Let the singing winds, which be
Wingèd dream and melody,
Singing softly, by her lie,
Softly singing, die.

Let the bee has sucked the bloom
Homeward journey by her tomb,
And his tithe of sweet be paid
To her sweeter shade.

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poem by John Vance Cheney from Century Magazine, Volume 57, Issue 4 (1889)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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