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180
LUCY'S GIFT OF WINTER FLOWERS.
She came to my door, but I could not persuade her
To enter, for fear I would tempt her to stay;
And scarce a kind word for her gift had I paid her,
When, lo! she had turned, and was hastening away.
To enter, for fear I would tempt her to stay;
And scarce a kind word for her gift had I paid her,
When, lo! she had turned, and was hastening away.
A sweet little offering for winter I thought it,—
The bunch of young flowers by a ribbon confined;
And she was a lovely young girl, who had brought it,
And fled like a sylph, as she left it behind.
The bunch of young flowers by a ribbon confined;
And she was a lovely young girl, who had brought it,
And fled like a sylph, as she left it behind.
A daisy, as bright and as modestly blooming,
As she, who had plucked it, peeped out through the green;
A half-opened rose, as a censer, perfuming
The myrtle-sprig o'er them, just blushing was seen.
As she, who had plucked it, peeped out through the green;
A half-opened rose, as a censer, perfuming
The myrtle-sprig o'er them, just blushing was seen.
And Lucy had tenderly watched them while growing,—
Had carefully led up their stems from the earth;
Her eye had beamed o'er the soft bud in its blowing,
Her voice hailed with music the flower at its birth.
Had carefully led up their stems from the earth;
Her eye had beamed o'er the soft bud in its blowing,
Her voice hailed with music the flower at its birth.
Her delicate fingers had gathered and formed them
So gracefully into the winter bouquet;
To save them from chill, at her heart she had warmed them,
While bearing them through the cold air of the day.
So gracefully into the winter bouquet;
To save them from chill, at her heart she had warmed them,
While bearing them through the cold air of the day.
While snow-wreath and snow-wreath were woven together,
And pale looked the sun from his journey above,
Her beautiful gift, in the keen wintry weather,—
It seemed like the olive-branch brought by the dove!
And pale looked the sun from his journey above,
Her beautiful gift, in the keen wintry weather,—
It seemed like the olive-branch brought by the dove!
181
She carefully trains up the rose and the myrtle;
But this is not half of what Lucy can do:
For she has a heart, and can love like a turtle,—
A voice, and she sings almost seraph-like, too.
But this is not half of what Lucy can do:
For she has a heart, and can love like a turtle,—
A voice, and she sings almost seraph-like, too.
Then why did she come, like an angel appearing
To drop me a blessing, and hasten along,—
To pass in a moment from sight and from hearing?
Come back! my dear Lucy, and sing me a song.
To drop me a blessing, and hasten along,—
To pass in a moment from sight and from hearing?
Come back! my dear Lucy, and sing me a song.
Return! and I'll tell thee how fondly I cherish
The flowers thou hast brought me, the best of the year!
That others may see them before they can perish,
A tender memento, I fasten them here.
The flowers thou hast brought me, the best of the year!
That others may see them before they can perish,
A tender memento, I fasten them here.
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