Page:Poems Terry, 1861.djvu/121

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Daisies.
117
   Winds in whispers coming
    Teach you love's sweet lore,
For your reluctant lips still worshipping the more.

   Birds with music laden
    Shower their songs on you;
   And the rustic maiden,
    Standing in the dew,
By your alternate leaves tells if her love be true.

   Little stars of glory!
    From your amber eyes
   No inconstant story
    Of her love should rise!
And yet "He loves me not!" is oft the sad surprise.

   Crowds of milk-white blossoms!
    Noon's concentred beams
   Glowing in your bosoms;
    So, by living streams
In heaven, I think the light of flowers immortal gleams.

   When your date is over,
    Peacefully ye fade,