One Sea-side Grave
Christina RossettiUnmindful of the roses,
Unmindful of the thorn,
A reaper tired reposes
Among his gathered corn:
So might I, till the morn!Cold as the cold Decembers,
Past as the days that set,
While only one remembers
And all the rest forget, —
But one remembers yet.
Christina RossettiUnmindful of the roses,
Unmindful of the thorn,A reaper tired reposes
Among his gathered corn:So might I, till the morn!Cold as the cold Decembers,Past as the days that set,While only one remembers
And all the rest forget, —But one remembers yet.