Residue

MEMORY, what wilt thou,
Troubled and forlorn?
When the year gives roses
Wherefore choose the thorn?
’T is for thee I suffer,”
Memory sighed apart;
“ Thou hast had the sweetness,
I must bear the smart!”

Memory, what wilt thou,
Restless, ill at ease?
When the new wine sparkles
Wherefore drink the lees?
“ ’T is for thee I suffer,”
Memory sighed again;
“ Thou hast had the sweetness,
I the dregs must drain!”