The Time Of The Rose Is Over Poem by Alexander Anderson

Love, turn thy gentle feet away,
How can I be thy lover?
The years pass onward to decay
And the bloom of the rose is over.


The sweet light fails from out the sky,
The weary wind is wailing,
The rain, like tears, is falling nigh
From the grey cloud o'er us sailing.


O rare, glad time when youth was sweet
With all its pulses beating,
When music led thy gentle feet,
And a rainbow was o'er our meeting.


The rose was bright, but brighter still,
The eyes that shone like heaven;
O Love, come back again and thrill
Our souls like a soul forgiven.


When heart to heart spoke soft and low,
As lovers' words are spoken.
When truth was truth and youth was youth,
And never a vow was broken.


Love, turn thy gentle feet away,
How can I be thy lover?
A low wind grieves among the leaves,
And the time of the rose is over.