Poems (Linn)/The Grape-Vine Bloom

by Edith Willis Linn

THE GRAPE-VINE BLOOM.

YOUR wonderous scent is borne to me
 On wavering gusts of June's soft wind,
Holding all richness for its own,
 The sweetness of all flowers combined.

Oh! coy you seem, like some fair maid
 That longs to keep her lover's eyes,
Striving with every art to win,
 But when he fain would clasp her, flies.

So jealous of your gifts you are,
 I hang above your modest bloom
And press it in my hand to find
 The tiny flowers yield no perfume.

I turn to go and lo! a breeze
 Your odor rich with sweets has brought,
Calling me back, to praise again
 Your blossom delicately wrought.

Breath fit for gods! your scent enthralls;
 It seems like air from lands divine.
O bloom of Bacchus, praise I give!
 Hail! promise of the clustered vine.