My Lattice and Other Poems

by Frederick George Scott




THE days and weeks are going, love,
    The years roll on apace,
And the hand of time is showing, love,
    In the care lines on thy face;

But the tie that bound our hearts, love,

    In the morning’s golden haze,
Is a tie that never parts, love,
    With the passing of the days.

For though Death’s arm be strong, love,
    Our love its light will shed,

And like a glorious song, love,
    Will live when Death is dead.