Sheila Rand
I only know a very ecstasy
Of gladness floods my sad heart,
As, glancing from the calm cerulean sky
To the green grass below,
The iridescent vetch, pink, mauve, and blue,
Flashes a bright welcome to my eager eye.
simple vetch, how cunningly you grow, As if some Prairie-elf,
Just to amuse himself,
Has woven variegated patterns in the grass!
A tuft of violets gaze timidly
From out a growth of sallow, thirsty grass.
Tis strange to find such beauty hiding here,
But then the Prairie s breast is fair
Until the sun s lips press too close.
Now as I pass with gladsome step across the mead,
1 catch the bashful Meadow Lark s rich note. I pluck a simple weed,
And leaf of columbine, and in my hair,
I twine these symbols of simplicity.
Vanished is all my former misery.
Thanks be to God for this sweet place !
My throat begins to throb with happy pain,
For just beyond that mound,
I see a golden gleam, a saffron star.
O joy to meet one s childhood-friends again.
winsome cowslip, now that you are found,
1 know that Spring is here, And Summer must be near,
For you have ever been his dainty harbinger.
I gazed awhile in silence, then I cried,
I never saw a blossom smile like you,
Bright, roguish cowslip. O but you are sweet!
I picked those growing at my feet,
And as I pinned them at my breast,
A whistle blew.
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