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Forest buds, from the woods of Maine

Allen, Elizabeth Akers (1832-1911)

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[section]
  
TO ALL WHO LOVE ME.
  
ADA.
  
MAY.
  
I LOVE THEE.
  
BY THE RIVER-SIDE.
  
A JUNE SHOWER.
  
DROWNED.
  
THE ANGEL OF PATIENCE.
  
THE FOREST.
  
THE SPRING BY THE CHERRY TREE.
  
FLOWN.
  
THE ANSWERED PRAYER.
  
WINTER.
  
FROST-PICTURES.
  
NO MORE.
  
THE HOUSEHOLD SAINT.
  
THIS MORNING.
  
YESTERDAY.
  
THE CHEERFUL HEART.
  
NOVEMBER.
  
FLORENCE'S BIRTH-DAY.
  
MARCH.
  
CLOVER BLOSSOMS.
  
TO ONE DEPARTED.
  
TWO.
  
TWENTY-ONE.
  
A DRY DITTY.
  
THE BENT OF THE TWIG.
  
THE WHITE DOVE.
  
A LULLABY.
  
THY BLESSING.
  
THE SUNKEN ROCK.
  
THE UNBIDDEN GUEST.
  
TWENTY-TWO.
  
MAGIC MIRRORS.
  
THE HAUNTED RIVER.
  
CHARMED.
  
WHERE CHARLIE DIED.
  
THE MINSTREL.
  
DANDELIONS.
  
THE HAND IN MINE.
  
AGAIN.
  
MY WORLD.
  
RESIGNATION.
  
BETTER THAN BEAUTY.
  
SEVENTEEN.
  
“THE GOOD TIME COMING.”
  
ALLIE.
  
ONE NIGHT.
  
“TRUE LOVE CAN NE'ER FORGET.”
  
TO MY NAMESAKE.
  
TO A SINGER.
  
TO ONE OF LITTLE FAITH.
  
TWICE-TOLD.
  
A PORTRAIT.
  
MY WIFE AND CHILD.
  
RE-UNITED.
  
TO-DAY.
  
IMPARTIALITY.
  
BOTH SIDES OF THE QUESTION.
  
THE LIVING.
  
LET ME IN.
  
TO AN IDEAL.
  
OF ONE BELOVED.
  
ALMOST AN ANGEL.
  
THE BROKEN HOME.
  
THE PANTRY.
  
MY NAME,
  
YOU AND ME.
  
OUR AUTUMN.
  
MY BABIES.
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A BRACE OF SONNETS.
  
EVELYN.
  
THE AWAKENING.
  
IN VAIN.
  
STREET MUSIC.
  
THE APRIL BREEZE.
  
PICTURES OF MEMORY.
  
LOST AND SAVED.
  
TO ONE INSPIRED.
  
OVER THE WAY.
  
FEBRUARY.
  
TRUE LOVE CAN FORGET.
  
TOO LATE.
  
DESTINED.
  
THE DESERT FOUNTAIN.
  
TO ONE DYING.
  
TRUTH AND POETRY.

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185

TO ONE INSPIRED.

Thou of the snowy heart
Passionless—cold,—
Though my heart's love to thee
Vainly was told,
Now for a lowlier boon
Humbly it bends—
Though thou canst love me not
Let us be friends!
Thou of the pure white brow
Stainless and calm,
Though for thy heavenward heart
Earth has no charm,
Still the fond prayer to thee
Warmly ascends—
Though thou canst love me not
Let us be friends!
186

Thou of the lofty soul
Sinless and fair,
Though to thy love, my heart
May not aspire,
Prayers for thy happiness
Upward it sends,—
Craving but one sweet boon,—
Let us be friends!
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