Some hang above the tombs,
Some weep in empty rooms,
I, when the iris blooms,
Remember.
I, when the cyclamen
Opens her buds again,
Rejoice a moment-then
Remember.
Some hang above the tombs,
Some weep in empty rooms,
I, when the iris blooms,
Remember.
I, when the cyclamen
Opens her buds again,
Rejoice a moment-then
Remember.
© Mary Elizabeth Coleridge