Love’s Easter—Sonnet
Andrew Lang
Love died here Long ago;— O’er his bier, Lying low, Poppies throw; Shed no tear; Year by year, Roses blow! Year by year, Adon—dear To Love’s Queen— Does not die! Wakes when green May is nigh!
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Love died here Long ago;— O’er his bier, Lying low, Poppies throw; Shed no tear; Year by year, Roses blow! Year by year, Adon—dear To Love’s Queen— Does not die! Wakes when green May is nigh!
