So Shall Our Love Die

The rose buds are hard and firm;

Erect and proud they stand

On slender stems,

Wrapped in silk

And tied with a velvet ribbon.

"Tie the ribbon in my hair,"

She says,

"Your gentle touch upon my brow

Can make me close my eyes

In sleepy pleasure."

Low the candle burns

And flickers shadows on the wall;

It's crimson lips are closing

Round the flame.

As the flame dies

So shall our live die?

The roses stoop lower

As their petals fall.

So shall our love die?

"What is it,"

She says.

"Nothing,"

Say I,

"Nothing but the west wind,

The wind of change."