Sonnets :: :: University of Virginia Library

There is a flower that never changeth hue;
In vain the angry winds its leaves assail;
Triumphant over time, in ev'ry vale
It lifts its hopeful head, glistering with dew.
The Maiden rears it in her own sweet looks;
The Youth conjures it in the summer shade,
Pictures its image, as by murmuring brooks
He flies from scenes that his chaste dreams invade.
The very fields its presence own in spring;
The hills re-echo with a song of gladness;
The heavens themselves their store of tribute bring,
And in this flower all things renounce their sadness.
O Love! where is the heart that knows not thee?
Thou only bloomest everlastingly!