Читать книгу The Knickerbocker, or New-York Monthly Magazine, May 1844 - Various - Страница 2

Welcome, sweet flowers! bright Summer’s poetry!

I hail your fragrant coming, and again

With joy I read your brilliant imagery

Written once more in nature’s holiest strain:

The lowly cottage, and the princely hall

Your advent cherisheth—ye are all to all.

Rising in glory from their winter graves,

The painted Tulip comes, and Daisy fair,

And o’er the brook the fond Narcissus waves

Her golden cup—her image loving there.

Those early flowers their glowing tributes bring

To weave a chaplet round the brow of Spring.

The sultry sun of June looks down, and then

Comes forth the lovely rose, the garden’s pride,

To herald summer over glade and glen,

O’er wild and waste, o’er mead and mountain side:

Proudly she rears her crest on high, the vain

And gay pursuivant of a brilliant train.

And now, bright Dahlia, heartless one, appear!

Thy time has come to join the festival:

Come, Peru’s daughter, belle of night! dost fear

To wear in glorious day thy coronal?

And thou, pale exile from the holy land,

Imperial Lily! come and join the band!

See, o’er the lattice creeps the Eglantine,

And there the Jasmine clambers up the wall

To twine her wreaths with Flora’s blushing queen,

Rejoicing all in summer’s carnival:

How kind of them to deck the shepherd’s cot,

And with their presence cheer his humble lot!

I love ye, flowers; your odors ever bring

Back visions of the past: I love ye well;

From the lone Primrose, nursling of the Spring,

Unto the beauteous Aster, Autumn’s belle,

Or reared on verdant field, or ruined wall,

I love ye all, sweet flowers!—I love ye all!