Imitation

MY love she leans from the window

Afar in a rosy land;

And red as a rose are her blushes,

And white as a rose her hand.

And the roses cluster around her,

And mimic her tender grace;

And nothing but roses can blossom

Wherever she shows her face.

I dwell in a land of winter,

From my love a world apart—

But the snow blooms over with roses

At the thought of her in my heart.

……..

This German style of poem

Is uncommonly popular now;

For the worst of us poets can do it—

Since Heine showed us how.