 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
The Stranger's Gift
I found far culled from fragrant field and groveEach flower that makes our Spring a welcome guest,
In one sweet bond of brotherhood inwove
An ozier band their leafy stalks compressed;
A stranger's hand had made their bloom my own,
And fresh their fragrance rested on the air,
His gift was mine—but he who gave unknown,
And my heart sorrowed though the flowers were fair:
Now oft I grieve to meet them on the lawn,
Scattered along the path I love to go,
By One who on their petals paints the dawn,
And gilt with sunset splendors bids them glow,
For I ne'er asked ‘who steeps them in perfume?’
Nor anxious sought His love who crowns them all with bloom!
Poem No. 228; c. 18 August 1838
| Jones Very : The Complete Poems | |