Song From the Wandering Jew
Song From the Wandering Jew
Percy Bysshe Shelley
See yon opening flower
Spreads its fragrance to the blast;
It fades within an hour,
Its decay is pale--is fast.
Paler is yon maiden;
Faster is her heart's decay;
Deep with sorrow laden,
She sinks in death away.
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Public domain text via the PoetryDB open archive.
