So Slow To Die

THE RAINBOW on the ocean A moment bright, The nightingale’s devotion That dies on night, Eve’s rosy star a-tremble Its hour of light,— All things that love resemble Too soon take flight. The violets we cherish Died in the spring; Roses and lilies perish In what they bring; And joy and beauty wholly With life depart; But love leaves slow, how slowly! Life’s empty heart. O, strange to me, and wondrous, The storm passed by, With sound of voices thund’rous Swept from the sky; But stranger, love, thy fashion,— O, tell me why Art thou, dark storm of passion, So slow to die? As roll the billowy ridges When the great gale has blown o’er; As the long winter-dirges From frozen branches pour; As the whole sea’s harsh December Pounds on the pine-hung shore; So will love’s deep remember, So will deep love deplore.