While lilies bud and blow,
While roses grow,
And trees wave greenly in the sun-
Wave greenly to and fro;
And ring-doves coo and coo,
And skies dropp dew,
And th’ throstle pipes above the nest
His wee mate broods upon:
How can one choose but sing
Of joy, love-every thing!
While the north wind sobs and grieves,
While the trees dropp leaves,
And scentless, budless meadows lie
Bare to the beating rain;
And the birds are grown and flown,
And the nests are alone,
And love, like closing day,
Grows cold, grows old and gray:
How can one help but sigh,
While night draws nigh,
And darkly runs the river to the main!
A little plat where showers
May bring forth flowers,
Poppies, mandragora, and all sweet balm!
Ah me! Who can but smile?
Only a little while,
And hearts forget to ache
And eyes to wake;
The grass clasps softly velvet palm with palm
Above the quiet breast,
And Hope, and God’s white angels, know the rest!
