LOVE’S BLOSSOMING.

LOVE’S BLOSSOMING.
522.2

When soft on the hillside the spring winds were blowing,
And summer stirred sleepily under the sod—
When through the cold earth the warm consciousness stealing

Brought violets voicing the whispers of God;
When out of the silence came bird notes appealing,
And nest-builders darted abroad on swift wing—
Like song, in my heart, came the love of you stealing,
As sweet as the meadow-lark’s greeting to spring.
Like blossoming Mav was your love’s first beginning,
With fragrance half-wild, and a dream of a flush;
When I told you I loved you, your shy assent winning,
June’s glorious roses were throned in your blush.
Now . . . deeper and dearer your love than in June-tide

And goal of the midsummer bee is my goal—
For as sweets in the heart of the lily at noontide,
The goal of your love in the white of your soul!
—-Edna Kingsley Wallace in The Critic.