The old village was with roses filled,
And I went wandering in the heat of the day,
And, after, o'er the sleeping leaves that chilled
The feet that walked among them where they lay.
And then along a worn-out wall, the belt
Of a wide park whence came a gentle breeze,
And there an odour of the past I smelt
In the white roses and the mighty trees.
Now uninhabited by anyone ...