Poems (Cary)/Adeleid

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ADELIED.
Unpraised but of my simple rhymes She pined from life, and died,The softest of all April times That storm and shine divide.
The swallow twittered within reach Impatient of the rain,And the red blossoms of the peach Blew down against the pane.
When, feeling that life's wasting sands Were wearing into hours,She took her long locks in her hands And gathered out the flowers.
The day was nearly at the close, And on the eave in sight,The doves were gathered in white rows With bosoms to the light;
When first my sorrow flowed to rhymes For gentle Adelied—The light of thrice five April-times Had kissed her when she died.
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