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Words: 13285 in 7 pages
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and peonies grew, The fragrant June pinks and the wee bells of blue;
The marigolds, poppies, and pansies so sweet Lifted their dewy faces towards heaven to meet The first smile of morning; the fragrant sweet pea Wound its delicate tendrils round pickets, and we
To drowsiness drank of the odor it spilled, While sunflowers nodded to us as we filled Our baskets with blossoms for table bouquets, Or lolled in the bliss of the soft morning haze; Or, with aprons outspread, in our childish delight, The butterfly chased in his foraging flight 'Mong the flowers; or the hummer, that gay little thief, That pilfered the sweets from each petal and leaf.
But long years ago the old garden was sold! Its walls, rustic gates, are all crumbled to mold; Its beds and smooth pathways 'neath grass-tangles hid, For the breezes of June-time are whispering 'mid The flowers that blossom her pallet above, Who tended that old-fashioned garden I love; And singing their lullaby sweetest where lies My playmate and sister with bonnie blue eyes.
And I hope when my sojourn of usefulness here Is past, to the place that my bosom holds dear I may go, and there pillow my head 'neath the tree Where robin and oriole chirrup in glee, While my soul slips away from the spot that I love, To old-fashioned gardens that grow up above.
DANCE OF THE RIPPLES.
I stood, one night, by the old St. Joe, Where the moonbeams love to loiter; Watching the ripples come and go And the willow trees their shadows throw On the mystic, murm'ring water.
As I lingered there on the vine-clad bank, Where the pale rays glint and quiver Through the silvered leaves, a perfumed breeze So softly swayed the willow trees, And dappled the laughing river.
The waters murmured so low and sweet, Then an echo, soft and clear,-- Not the sound of lute or song of bird, But the sweetest music ever heard, Fell on my enchanted ear.
The silvered ripples all leaped for joy! And over the waters glancing I saw, in the light, a pretty sight; In an ecstasy of glad delight, The ripples all were dancing.
They danced in the midst where the stars look down-- No shadowy branch to hide them; They danced where the willows kiss the stream, Then back again in the moonlight's gleam, And the fish peeped out and eyed them.
They danced in the shade of the iron bridge, Where the aspen's shadows play; And the great moon smiled as the dancers fled, And spangles dropped on each little head, As they laughed and danced away.
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