| Alfred H. Miles, ed. Women Poets of the Nineteenth Century. 1907. | | | From Yu-Pe-Ya’s Lute (1874)
“Too Soon, So Fair, Fair Lilies” | | By Augusta Webster (1840–1894) |
| | | “TOO soon so fair, fair lilies; | |
| To bloom is then to wane; | |
| The folded bud has still | |
| Tomorrow at its will; | |
| Blown flowers can never blow again. | 5 |
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| Too soon so bright, bright noontide; | |
| The sun that now is high | |
| Will henceforth only sink | |
| Towards the western brink; | |
| Day that’s at prime begins to die. | 10 |
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| Too soon so rich, ripe summer, | |
| For autumn tracks thee fast; | |
| Lo, death-marks on the leaf! | |
| Sweet summer, and my grief; | |
| For summer come is summer past. | 15 |
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| Too soon, too soon, lost summer; | |
| Some hours and thou art o’er. | |
| Ah! death is part of birth: | |
| Summer leaves not the earth, | |
| But last year’s summer lives no more.” | 20 | | | |
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