Читать книгу Carols of Canada, Etc., Etc - E. S. MacLeod - Страница 11

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"Where's mother?" and with eager haste

He bore Love's offering; The first, bright flowers which oped their eyes;

Sweet heralds of the Spring.

Those tiny stars which dot with light

The young year's tender green; As silvery tapers gem the doole

Of evening's sable screen.

Ho! worlding of the callous mind!

Deem this a trifling thing? O'er little deeds of loyal love

Great mother-love doth sing.

More precious from those chubby hands,

Those sweet, wild flowers of Spring, Than priceless jewels from the store

Of coroneted king.