A BIRTH-SONG.
115
Let thoughts that change and fly,
Sweet thoughts and swift, go by;
More than all thought is here.
More than all hope can forge or memory feign
The life that in our eyes,
Made out of love's life, lies,
And flower‑like fed with love for sun and rain.
Twice royal in its root
The sweet small olive‑shoot
Here set in sacred earth;
Twice dowered with glorious grace
From either heaven‑born race
First blended in its birth;
Fair God or Genius of so fair an hour,
For love of either name
Twice crowned, with love and fame,
Guard and be gracious to the fair‑named flower.
October 19, 1875.
