Rhymes with reason and without | ||
XV.
WIDESWARTH ON HIS PLANTATION.
These are my grounds!—a monarch here I'm standing!'T is here for me the tiger-lilies bloom,
'T is here the lavender sheds its perfume,
'T is here the dahlia towers with form commanding.
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Wave their full clusters in my longing eye,
And promise purple ripeness by and by,
When a few moons their changes shall have sped.
O, 't is a triumph thus to tread the soil,
And feel that none but me herein bears sway!
I envy not the rich, who, day by day,
For dollars' silvery music delve and toil!
See, in yon tuft of balm a honey-bee,—
Its song is music, more than dollars' chink, to me.
Rhymes with reason and without | ||