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2. | II.
TO THE MARCH FLOWERS. |
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A lover's diary | ||
107
II.
TO THE MARCH FLOWERS.
Keep your muddy covers close, flowers,
Nor dare to open your eyes,
For all this month your lover, the Sun,
Will only tell you lies!
Nor dare to open your eyes,
For all this month your lover, the Sun,
Will only tell you lies!
He will only tell you lies, flowers,
Pretty, and undesigned,
For through this rough and cloudy month
He never knows his mind.
Pretty, and undesigned,
For through this rough and cloudy month
He never knows his mind.
The daffodil may look at him
With her bright and angry eyes,
But pinks that come with their hearts in their mouths
Must wait for warmer skies.
With her bright and angry eyes,
108
Must wait for warmer skies.
O daisies, stay in your grassy house,
Ye poor deluded things,
And keep your little white fingers shut
Away from his golden rings.
Ye poor deluded things,
And keep your little white fingers shut
Away from his golden rings.
Ye meadow lilies, leopard-like,
Under the mould, so deep,
Crouch close, and keep your spotted cubs
For a month yet, fast asleep.
Under the mould, so deep,
Crouch close, and keep your spotted cubs
For a month yet, fast asleep.
Trust not, ye modest violets,
His promises to you,
Nor dare upon his fickle smile
To broaden your kerchiefs blue,
His promises to you,
Nor dare upon his fickle smile
To broaden your kerchiefs blue,
109
Ye little twinkling marigolds,
'T is wise sometimes to doubt,
And though the wind should shake his moans
To music, look not out.
'T is wise sometimes to doubt,
And though the wind should shake his moans
To music, look not out.
'T is a rough and churlish month, flowers,
So heed ye my advice,
Else you will wake, to go to sleep
With cheeks as cold as ice.
So heed ye my advice,
Else you will wake, to go to sleep
With cheeks as cold as ice.
A lover's diary | ||