I hall always abhor the scent of rosee, The lush gold roses of riant Juae; Always and always shall I abhor them When they come to me fainfc like a jangled tuno. Yellow and scented, and heavy and languid, O my heart, how I hat their bloom- For they grew that evening down in the garden. And my lover held ouo- udliug my doom, I shall always revolt at the dim white moonlight When the moon is a crwceut above the hiü - For that night it hung like a silver sicklo, Just where w partod, silunt and still. The world was Ulied with a mystj beauty, Tenderán! drearuful, sol"inn and white; But Til hate the crescent for ever and ever, Because it gtiinmeretl that summer night. I Rhall always shiver when sw(et, faint musio Throbs like a pleadiu uion the air, Surging in bfllows of passionate wailing, Wistful as patience, yearning as prayer. I shall shudder and weep whenever I hear it, Sobbing and sighing lLWe souls in pain - For it drifted that night to me there, forsaken, With a haunting and mocking and mad refrüin. I shall always hate the mild, sweet summer- For it holtLs tlie June in its throbbing heart- The June with its rxses and music and moonlight, And lovers' pleading, as false as art. Always, I say, I shall hate the summer, With ite tender breezes and dusk starred sty- Shall hate it with deepest and flercest passion, For ever and ever, until I die.