 | Poems by Henry Septimus Sutton |  |
229
THE SNOWDROP.
Thy month and mine,—bleak Februere,—
The shivering snowdrop month, we share;—
Snowdrop, whereby doth Nature show
How much her thoughts excel the snow.
The shivering snowdrop month, we share;—
Snowdrop, whereby doth Nature show
How much her thoughts excel the snow.
Sweet frigid firstling of the year,
Slight scent is in this flower sincere,
Yet Februere for us doth bring
The joy of all the flowers of spring.
Slight scent is in this flower sincere,
Yet Februere for us doth bring
The joy of all the flowers of spring.
So take the little gift, and dream
Of lilies floating down a stream
With early roses, breathing scent
Full spring-like and most excellent.
Of lilies floating down a stream
With early roses, breathing scent
Full spring-like and most excellent.
And in like spirit dream this gift
Is precious; or, if thou must sift
Reality from dream, yet say,
This is a true love-gift to-day;
Is precious; or, if thou must sift
Reality from dream, yet say,
This is a true love-gift to-day;
230
A gift of love as true and fair,
As is our flower of Februere,
Whose early coming doth express
Both purity and faithfulness.
As is our flower of Februere,
Whose early coming doth express
Both purity and faithfulness.
And know, that if the gift had been
Co-equal with the love, no queen
Could look more rich, though she made bold
Her brow and dress with gems and gold.
Co-equal with the love, no queen
Could look more rich, though she made bold
Her brow and dress with gems and gold.
| Poems by Henry Septimus Sutton | |