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American Literature – Children Books – American Poetry – Henry Van Dyke – Poems by Henry Van Dyke
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Oh, was I born too soon, my dear, or were you born too late,That I am going out the door while you come in the gate?For you the garden blooms galore, the castle is en fête;You are the coming guest, my dear,—for me the horses wait.
I know the mansion well, my dear, its rooms so rich and wide;If you had only come before I might have been your guide,And hand in hand with you explore the treasures that they hide;But you have come to stay, my dear, and I prepare to ride.
Then walk with me an hour, my dear, and pluck the reddest roseAmid the white and crimson store with which your garden glows,—A single rose,—I ask no more of what your love bestows;It is enough to give, my dear,—a flower to him who goes.
The House of Life is yours, my dear, for many and many a day,But I must ride the lonely shore, the Road to Far Away:So bring the stirrup-cup and pour a brimming draught, I pray,And when you take the road, my dear, I’ll meet you on the way.
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American Literature – Children Books – American Poetry – Henry Van Dyke – Poems by Henry Van Dyke
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