To W. B.
William Ernest Henley
From the brake the Nightingale Sings exulting to the Rose; Though he sees her waxing pale In her passionate repose, While she triumphs waxing frail, Fading even while she glows; Though he knows How it goes— Knows of last year’s Nightingale Dead with last year’s Rose. Wise the enamoured Nightingale, Wise the well-beloved Rose! Love and life shall still prevail, Nor the silence at the close Break the magic of the tale In the telling, though it shows— Who but knows How it goes!— Life a last year’s Nightingale, Love a last year’s Rose.
Next 10 Poems
- William Ernest Henley : To W. R.
- William Ernest Henley : To W. R. ( Ii )
- William Ernest Henley : Trees And The Menace Of Night
- William Ernest Henley : Vigil
- William Ernest Henley : Villon's Straight Tip To All Cross Coves
- William Ernest Henley : Visitor
- William Ernest Henley : Waiting
- William Ernest Henley : We Flash Across The Level
- William Ernest Henley : We'll Go No More A-roving By The Light Of The Moon
- William Ernest Henley : What Have I Done For You
Previous 10 Poems
- William Ernest Henley : To W. A.
- William Ernest Henley : To S. C.
- William Ernest Henley : To R. L. S.
- William Ernest Henley : To R. F. B.
- William Ernest Henley : To R. A. M. S.
- William Ernest Henley : To P. A. G.
- William Ernest Henley : To My Mother Iii
- William Ernest Henley : To My Mother Ii
- William Ernest Henley : To My Mother
- William Ernest Henley : To Me At My Fifth-floor Window
