 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
468
On The Wild Flowers of the Art Exhibition
While Nature still delays her flowers to bring,And all the fields around are white with snow,
With not a token of the coming Spring,
On Art's fair page we see their beauties glow.
The snowdrop with its slender stem is seen,
The houstonia with its pale blue flower,
Scattered by myriads o'er our pastures green,
When Spring returns to deck her faded bower.
And Summer's gorgeous colored flowers are here,
Lobelia with its brilliant, dazzling hue,
The lily red, and painted cup appear,
With the fair rose; and each to Nature true.
Art waits not for the tardy months of time;
All seasons are her own, and every clime.
Poem No. 812; c. 24 July 1874
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