Читать книгу The Ring of Amethyst - Alice Wellington Rollins - Страница 4

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My heart was like a flower once,

That from its jewel-tinted cup

The generous fragrance of its joy

To all the world sent floating up.

But now ’tis like a humming-bird,

That in the cup his bright wing dips,

And with most dainty selfishness

Himself the choicest honey sips,

With eager, thirsty, longing lips!

And once my heart was like a gem,

Set in a fair betrothal ring;

Content to light the happy darks

That shield love’s shy self-wondering.

But now I think my heart is like

The lady fair who wears the ring;

Pressed closely to her lips at night

With love’s mysterious wondering

That hers should be the precious thing!

And once my heart was like a nest,

Where singing-birds have made their home;

Set where the apple-boughs in bloom

Fleck the blue air with flower-foam.

But now it is itself a bird;

And if it does not always sing,

The Heavenly Father knows what thoughts,—

Too strangely sweet for uttering,—

Stir faintly underneath its wing!