|Share page||Visit Us On FB|
DO A MONTHLY PINK. 129
Here thou art, Blooming in thy freshness still, Like the green hopes of the heart
Naught can chill.
Look abroad, Clouds are gathering in the sky, Tempests, wailing fierce and loud,
Pass thee by. .
Drifting snows Through the garden lanes are seen, Showing where the flowers repose,
But thou art green.
Wouldst thou teach This poor heart to wear a bloom Which the tempests cannot reach,
Nor e'en the tomb ?
O! sweet flower, Thou dost whisper gentle things Of the sunshine, and the shower,
And zephyr's wings.
Thou dost speak Of the summer's golden hue, Of the lilac's blushing cheek,
And violet blue; 9