96
POEMS.
And the Newyear's coming up, mother, but I shall never see
The blossom on the blackthorn, the leaf upon the tree.
The blossom on the blackthorn, the leaf upon the tree.
iii.
Last May we made a crown of flowers: we had a merry day;
Beneath the hawthorn on the green they made me Queen of May;
And we danced about the maypole and in the hazel-copse,
Till Charles's wain came out above the tall white chimneytops.
Last May we made a crown of flowers: we had a merry day;
Beneath the hawthorn on the green they made me Queen of May;
And we danced about the maypole and in the hazel-copse,
Till Charles's wain came out above the tall white chimneytops.
iv.
There's not a flower on all the hills: the frost is on the pane:
I only wish to live till the snowdrops come again:
I wish the snow would melt and the sun come out on high—
I long to see a flower so before the day I die.
There's not a flower on all the hills: the frost is on the pane:
I only wish to live till the snowdrops come again:
I wish the snow would melt and the sun come out on high—
I long to see a flower so before the day I die.
