 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
389
SONG.
THE FLOWER OF THE TREE.
I
O the flower of the tree is the flower for me,That life out of life, high-hanging and free,
By the finger of God and the south wind's fan
Drawn from the broad bough, as Eve from Man!
From the rank red earth it never upgrew:
It was woo'd from the bark in the glistening blue.
II
Hail, blossoms green 'mid the limes unseen,That charm the bees to your honeyed screen,
As like to the green trees that gave you birth
As true tongue's kindness to true heart's worth!
We see you not; but, we scarce know why,
We are glad when the air you have breathed goes by.
III
O flowers of the lime! 'twas a merry timeWhen under you first we read old rhyme,
And heard the wind roam over pale and park,
We, not I, 'mid the lime-grove dark;
Summer is heavy and sad. Ye bring
With your tardy blossoms a second Spring.
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |