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FLOWER SONGS.
Then waken, waken, The earth has takenInto the sunshine her wondrous way; Then waken, waken, The showers are shakenLoose from the leaves and melt away,Lost in the beautiful light of day!
Here the clear singing of the joyous spriteStartled the echoes of that underworldWhere buds lie sleeping: straight the silent bushBeside me quivered in the happy light;The red sap mounted along stem and spray,In countless hurried convolutions whirledTo break at once into the perfect flower—The perfect flower—proud was the song she sung.
THE ROSE.
I am the one rich thing that morn Leaves for the ardent noon to win;Grasp me not, I have a thorn, But bend and take my being in.
