The Seed I Sowed, Believing

The seed I sowed, believingIn an everlasting rose,Is now a stalk, unleavingIts harvest to the snows,And from its green-leafed fireThere's only left to burnThe stiff bone of the briar,The cold-glossed hollow thorn.

Though bitter sap is squeezingWhere once a sweet glow ran,My twisted stalk is seizingThese comforts while it can:Although no bud shall splinterFresh leaves to greet the spring,The briar will last out winter,The thorn be sharp to sting.