Life, like an overweighted shaken rose,
Falls, in a cloud of colour, to my feet;
Its petals strew my first November snows,
Too soon, too fleet!
‘Twas my own breath had blown the leaves apart,
My own hot eyelids stirred them where they lay;
It was the tumult of my own bright heart
Broke them away.
From: Gosse, Edmund, The Collected Poems of Edmund Gosse, 1911, William Heinemann: London, p. 338.
(https://archive.org/details/collectedpoemse00gossgoog/)
Date: 1894
By: Edmund William Gosse (1849-1928)
From Troubles of The World 