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The May Flower
I found upon our neighboring hills
A flower, there growing thick as dropping rain;
And from its friends removed it far,
And in strange company did it detain.
A flower, there growing thick as dropping rain;
And from its friends removed it far,
And in strange company did it detain.
And far I took it from the old grey rocks,
And from the dark green wood wax spreading round,
From barberry bush with its prickly stems,
And placed it in the distant garden's ground.
And from the dark green wood wax spreading round,
From barberry bush with its prickly stems,
And placed it in the distant garden's ground.
Then I thought that it would quickly die,
When removed so far from the rocky hills;
Where the sun shines bright the live-long day,
And the bird's sweet song every covert fills.
When removed so far from the rocky hills;
Where the sun shines bright the live-long day,
And the bird's sweet song every covert fills.
For not lightly sundered frailest thread,
Which binds to its haunt the sweet May flower;
Mid the garden's bloom it droops and fades,
And pineth still in the fairest bower.
Which binds to its haunt the sweet May flower;
Mid the garden's bloom it droops and fades,
And pineth still in the fairest bower.
The floweret lived; but an exile seemed
That pined for his country far away;
In summer it seeded, in autumn
Grew sere; and it bloomed, once again, in May.
That pined for his country far away;
In summer it seeded, in autumn
Grew sere; and it bloomed, once again, in May.
And I marked, as its little white flowers
Appeared, that still to its friends it was true;
Though afar from the spot of its birth,
They came forth as when by their side it grew.
Appeared, that still to its friends it was true;
Though afar from the spot of its birth,
They came forth as when by their side it grew.
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So we, though we roam to far distant lands,
Through the grandest and fairest of earth;
Can never forget mountain, river, and vale,
Trees, and flowers in the place of our birth.
Through the grandest and fairest of earth;
Can never forget mountain, river, and vale,
Trees, and flowers in the place of our birth.
For something there is in every place,
Where kind Providence places his lot;
Binds man to his home, like the humblest flower,
Which heralds the Spring in his natal spot.
Where kind Providence places his lot;
Binds man to his home, like the humblest flower,
Which heralds the Spring in his natal spot.
Poem No. 229; c. 2 May 1876
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