The Last Robin
Lyrics and Sonnets


by Ethelwyn Wetherald



 

FLOWER AND FLAME.


BETWEEN the flowering and the flaming woods,
          All greening in the rain,
               The fields unfold;
          The sun upon the grain
               Outpours its gold,

5

And sweet with bloom and dew are nature’s moods
Between the flowering and the flaming woods.

Between the flaming and the flowering woods
          The wind bemoans a host
               Of withered leaves;

10

          The winter is a ghost
               That grieves and grieves
Around a ruined house where none intrudes,
Between the flaming and the flowering woods.

O woods that break in flower or in flame,

15

          My wingèd days and hours
               Shall meet their doom
          Like to your leaves and flowers;
               Let not your bloom
And brightness put my flying years to shame,

20

O woods that break in flower or in flame! [Page 88]