Poems and ballads Second edition. By Janet Hamilton ... With introductory papers by the Rev. George Gilfillan and the Rev. Alexander Wallace |
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THE MAY FLOWER. |
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 | Poems and ballads |  |
139
THE MAY FLOWER.
[_]
Verses inscribed to a very dear Friend, who presented me with a beautiful branch of the “May Flower,” or Hawthorn Blossom.
May, sweet May! this branch of blossom
From thy fragrant, beauteous bosom,
I accept and clasp the treasure
To my breast with grateful pleasure.
From thy fragrant, beauteous bosom,
I accept and clasp the treasure
To my breast with grateful pleasure.
Dear the gift, and dear the giver,
Whose loving hand is near me ever
To shield from care—the mother ailing,
To cheer her heart and spirits failing.
Whose loving hand is near me ever
To shield from care—the mother ailing,
To cheer her heart and spirits failing.
Thanks, sweet May! thy gift I cherish,
Soon, alas! too soon to perish;
Though a thing of beauty, never
Canst thou be a joy for ever.
Soon, alas! too soon to perish;
Though a thing of beauty, never
Canst thou be a joy for ever.
Thy snowy blossoms freshly blooming,
With their odorous breath perfuming
The chamber small, where still I treasure
Thy floral gift, sweet May! with pleasure.
With their odorous breath perfuming
The chamber small, where still I treasure
Thy floral gift, sweet May! with pleasure.
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I press them to my cheek, inhaling
Sweet nature's incense, still exhaling
From thy verdant lap o'erflowing
With flow'ry blooms, bright hued and glowing.
Sweet nature's incense, still exhaling
From thy verdant lap o'erflowing
With flow'ry blooms, bright hued and glowing.
Branch of May! the dews of morning
Twinkle on thy leaves, adorning
The pearly blooms that richly cluster
On each spray with sparkling lustre.
Twinkle on thy leaves, adorning
The pearly blooms that richly cluster
On each spray with sparkling lustre.
Ere from parent tree dissever'd,
Wood-notes rung and bright wings quiver'd
Through the branches—every blossom
Brush'd by some soft feathery bosom.
Wood-notes rung and bright wings quiver'd
Through the branches—every blossom
Brush'd by some soft feathery bosom.
The songster thrush, the blackbird mellow,
The black-capp'd bullfinch, dear bright fellow,
There build, and brood, and warble clearly;
They haunt and love the hawthorn dearly.
The black-capp'd bullfinch, dear bright fellow,
There build, and brood, and warble clearly;
They haunt and love the hawthorn dearly.
Now the sun of June uncloses
The fragrant treasures of the roses:
Queenly flower, soft, balmy blushing!
The glen, the grove, with beauty flushing.
The fragrant treasures of the roses:
Queenly flower, soft, balmy blushing!
The glen, the grove, with beauty flushing.
Onbank and mead, in copse and wildwood,
Wilding flowers, beloved from childhood,
In sweet profusion greet me smiling,
Cares and toils, and tears beguiling.
Wilding flowers, beloved from childhood,
In sweet profusion greet me smiling,
Cares and toils, and tears beguiling.
141
Memory ever fondly clinging
To the past, before me bringing,
With deepest sweetest fascination,
Past scenes of love and admiration.
To the past, before me bringing,
With deepest sweetest fascination,
Past scenes of love and admiration.
Sweet May, adieu! Oh! not in sorrow,
Though now a night, that knows no morrow,
Broods on my eyes; yet I, resigning
My will to heaven, live unrepining.
Though now a night, that knows no morrow,
Broods on my eyes; yet I, resigning
My will to heaven, live unrepining.
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