Here you will find thePoemMy Lossof poet Augusta Davies Webster
IN the world was one green nook I knew, Full of roses, roses red and white, Reddest roses summer ever grew, Whitest roses ever pearled with dew; And their sweetness was beyond delight, Was all love's delight. Wheresoever in the world I went, Roses were; for in my heart I took Blow and blossom and bewildering scent; Roses never with the summer spent, Roses always ripening in that nook, Love's far summer nook. In the world a soddened plot I know Blackening in this chill and misty air, Set with shivering bushes in a row, One by one the last leaves letting go: Wheresoe'er I turn I shall be there, Always sighing there. Ah, my folly! Ah, my loss, my pain! Dead, my roses that can blow no more! Wherefore looked I on our nook again? Wherefore went I after autumn's rain, Where the summer roses bloomed before, Bloomed so sweet before?
