Love Blooms But Once
When Autumn's chilly winds complain
And red leaves withered fall,
We know that Spring will laugh again,
And leaf and flower recall.
But when Love's saddening Autumn wears
The hues that death presage,
No Spring in Winter's lap prepares
A second Golden Age.
So when Life's Autumn sadly sighs,
Yet smiles its cold tears through,
No Spring, with warm and sunny skies,
The Soul's youth will renew.
Love blooms but once and dies—for all,—
Life has no second Spring:
The frost must come, the snow must fall,
Loud as the lark may sing.
O Love! O Life! ye fade like flowers,
That droop and die in June;
The present, ah! too short, is ours;
And Autumn comes too soon.
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Comments about this poem (Love Blooms But Once by Albert Pike )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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