 | A little book of tribune verse |  |
190
THE CACTUS.
“Bring me, my love, at twilight hour,
Some token of your love,” she said,
“Which shall its fragrance 'round me shed,
A little boon, a tiny flower.”
Some token of your love,” she said,
“Which shall its fragrance 'round me shed,
A little boon, a tiny flower.”
Oh, had my sweetheart asked me more,
I had not groaned as then I groaned,
I had not moaned as then I moaned,
My heartstrings had not pulled me sore.
I had not groaned as then I groaned,
I had not moaned as then I moaned,
My heartstrings had not pulled me sore.
For, oh! I see on every hand
Nor roses, violets of blue,
Nor daffodils of varied hue,
Only a vast expanse of sand!
Nor roses, violets of blue,
Nor daffodils of varied hue,
Only a vast expanse of sand!
Alas, and not a flower I see
Upon this Colorado plain,
I sigh and sigh and sigh again,
“My love can have no flow'r from me.”
Upon this Colorado plain,
I sigh and sigh and sigh again,
“My love can have no flow'r from me.”
Stay, yonder is a modest sprout,
A cactus in the barren soil,
She hath contrived by sturdy toil
To spread her shrivelled roots about.
A cactus in the barren soil,
She hath contrived by sturdy toil
To spread her shrivelled roots about.
191
What better token of my faith,
Could I unto my lady bear
Than that maimed foundling sprouting there,
That spawn of vegetation's wraith?
Could I unto my lady bear
Than that maimed foundling sprouting there,
That spawn of vegetation's wraith?
My love is like a cactus plant,
Elsewhere weak loves may bud and bloom,
But in this wild, this sandy tomb,
Mine be the sturdy love, God grant.
Elsewhere weak loves may bud and bloom,
But in this wild, this sandy tomb,
Mine be the sturdy love, God grant.
| A little book of tribune verse | |