Читать книгу Ladies-In-Waiting - Wiggin Kate Douglas Smith - Страница 7

A garden and a yellow wedge

Of sunshine slipping through,

And there, beside a bit of hedge,

Forget-me-nots so blue,

Bright four-o’clocks and spicy pinks,

And sweet, old-fashioned roses,

With daffodils and crocuses,

And other fragrant posies,

And in a corner, ’neath the shade

By flowering apple branches made,

Grew mignonette.

I do not know, I cannot say,

Why, when I hear you sing,

Those by-gone days come back to me,

And in their long train bring

To mind that dear old garden, with

Its hovering honey-bees,

And liquid-throated songsters on

The blossom-laden trees;

Nor why a fragrance, fresh and rare,

Should on a sudden fill the air,

Of mignonette!

Your mem’ry seems a garden fair

Of old-time flowers of song.

There Annie Laurie lives and loves,

And Mary Morison,

And Black-eyed Susan, Alice Grey,

Phillida, with her frown—

And Barbara Allen, false and fair,

From famous Scarlet Town.

What marvel such a garland rare

Should breathe sweet odors on the air,

Like mignonette?