University of Virginia Library


127

THE FIRST SPRINGTIDE.

When Eden's garden was new-drest,
When not a flower had blown,
And Eve from veiled buds but guessed
What glory would be grown,
Of springtide joys the very best
Meseemeth was unknown.
Our fond remembrances beget
Hopes that outbliss surprise:
Whilst in green shielding cover yet
The fragrant purple lies,
My memory-bosom'd violet
Its hidden sweet supplies.