Explore "To Rosamund" by Edith Nesbit on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
AND it is fair and very fair / This maze of blossom and sweet air, / This drift of orchard snows, / This royal promise of the rose / Wherein your young eyes see / Such buds of scented joys to be.
A gay green garden, softly fanned / By the blythe breeze that blows / To speed your ship of dreams to the enchanted land.
But I -- beyond the budding screen / Of green and red and white and green, / Behind the radiant show / Of things that cling and grow and glow / I see the plains where lie / The hopes of days gone by: / Gray breadths of melancholy, crossed / By winds that coldly blow / From that cold sea wherein my argosy is lost.