 | The lay of an Irish harp |  |
108
FRAGMENT XXVII. THE NOSEGAY.
To him who flung in at my window a bunch of
Myrtle Blossoms and Two Faces under a
Hood, after a little fracas.
I saw the flow'rs! and guess'd for me
The bloomy buds were cull'd by thee;
I snatch'd the flow'rs, and to my breast
Thy fragrant off'ring fondly prest;
109
That gloom'd our cold adieus to-day,
Till as I closer, fonder, hung
O'er every bud, a sad doubt sprung
Within my heart, and chill'd their bloom,
And robb'd them of their rich perfume:
For oh! thy gift appear'd methought
With cruel, doubtful, meaning fraught;
For one sweet blossom placed in view
Seem'd each delighted sense to woo,
Yet close beneath the fragrant veil
Deception's flow'r was seen to steal.
Why didst thou send me this bouquet?
Cruel! oh! didst thou mean to say,
“These flowers, delusive girl, receive,
Like thee they charm, like thee deceive;
110
Thy obvious grace, thy hidden guile—”
And is it so? then keep thy flow'r!
And trust me, 'tis no dewy show'r
Shed from nature's genial eye
That glitters o'er its purple dye,
But a tear, a tear that stole
From a fond but wounded soul,
The essence of a pang severe,
By thee extracted, form'd that tear;
Yet still 'tis thine, the chemic pow'r,
To change that tear, to change the flow'r:
Transmuted to a gem the tear
(Joy's precious gem!) the flow'r shall wear,
The flow'r that robb'd my heart of rest
Shall bloom an “heart's ease” in my breast,
111
Thou ne'er didst think thy friend a rover,
And that the flow'rs were sent by thee
But as peace offerings to me.
| The lay of an Irish harp | |