The Garden Fades
The garden fades: but the bloom shall not die
So long as my love is alive in the night:
In the chill, in the dew, all the flowers blush high,
Their leaves tremble with beauty and whisper delight;

But now, like a bird that has flown from the cage,
The bloom that I cherish falls over the ground;
The moths of the dark night encircle the page,
And sorrowful dreams like dark shadows abound.

• Robert Browning