SONG
[I pluck summer blossoms]
1
I pluck summer blossoms,
And think of rich bosoms,
The bosoms I've leaned on; and worshiped and won;
The rich valley lillies,
The wood daffodillies,
Have been found in our rambles when Summer begun.
2
Where I plucked thee—the blue bell,
'Twas where the night dew fell,
And rested till morn, in the cups of the flowers;
I shook the sweet posies,
Blue bells and sweet roses,
As we sat in a cool shade in summers warm hours.
3
Bedlam-cowslips, and cuckoo's,
With freck'd-lip, and hook'd nose,
Growing safe 'neath the hazzle, of thicket and woods:
And water-blobs, ladies-smocks,
Blooming, where hay cocks
May be found in the meadows, low places, and floods.
4
And cowslips, a fair band,
For may-ball, or garland;
That bloom in the meadows, far as seen by the eye;
And pink-ragged-robbin,
Where the fish they are bobbing,
Their heads above water, to catch at the fly.
5
Wild-flowers, and wild roses:
'Tis love makes the posies,
To paint summer ballads, of meadow, and glen;
Floods can't drown it, nor turn it;
Even flames cannot burn it,
Let it bloom 'till we walk, the green meadows again.
May 1844.
