POEMS.
MAY.
Where Spring's fair Queen, the radiant May,
Had strewed with flowers her dewy way,
Mid her sweet treasures scattered round,
A bright and perfumed gift we found.
Had strewed with flowers her dewy way,
Mid her sweet treasures scattered round,
A bright and perfumed gift we found.
Each dew-gemmed bud our gardens yield,
Each lowlier flower that decks the field,
A fragrant wreath our fingers twine,—
A gift for friendship's sacred shrine.
Each lowlier flower that decks the field,
A fragrant wreath our fingers twine,—
A gift for friendship's sacred shrine.
A simple gift; yet love demands
No costlier tribute at our hands:
The heart that beats unchanged and free,
Far dearer in thy sight shall be.
No costlier tribute at our hands:
The heart that beats unchanged and free,
Far dearer in thy sight shall be.
The living fount, whence freely flow
Thoughts warm and true as love can know,
Though all unseen its tide may swell,
My strain is weak its strength to tell.
Thoughts warm and true as love can know,
Though all unseen its tide may swell,
My strain is weak its strength to tell.
