 | Poems |  |
THE SIGN OF THE DAISY.
All summer she scattered the daisy leaves;
They only mocked her as they fell.
She said: “The daisy but deceives;
There is no virtue in its spell.
‘He loves me not,’ ‘he loves me well,’
One story no two daisies tell.”
Ah, foolish heart, which waits and grieves
Under the daisy's mocking spell!
They only mocked her as they fell.
She said: “The daisy but deceives;
There is no virtue in its spell.
‘He loves me not,’ ‘he loves me well,’
One story no two daisies tell.”
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Under the daisy's mocking spell!
But summer departed, and came again.
The daisies whitened every hill;
Her heart had lost its last year's pain,
Her heart of love had had its fill,
And held love's secrets at its will.
The daisies stood untouched and still,
No message in that snowy rain
To one whose heart had had its fill!
The daisies whitened every hill;
Her heart had lost its last year's pain,
Her heart of love had had its fill,
And held love's secrets at its will.
The daisies stood untouched and still,
No message in that snowy rain
To one whose heart had had its fill!
So never the daisy's sweet sign deceives,
Though no two will one story tell;
The glad heart sees the daisy leaves,
But thinks not of their hidden spell,
Heeds not which lingered and which fell.
“He loves me; yes, he loves me well.”
Ah, happy heart which sees, believes!
This is the daisy's secret spell!
Though no two will one story tell;
The glad heart sees the daisy leaves,
But thinks not of their hidden spell,
Heeds not which lingered and which fell.
“He loves me; yes, he loves me well.”
Ah, happy heart which sees, believes!
This is the daisy's secret spell!
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