A FLOWER IN A LETTER.
257
And now it seems ashamed to be
Alone, in all this company,
Of aspect shrunk and saddened!
Alone, in all this company,
Of aspect shrunk and saddened!
A chamber-window was the spot
It grew in, from a garden-pot,
Among the city shadows:
If any, tending it, might seem
To smile, 'twas only in a dream
Of nature in the meadows.
It grew in, from a garden-pot,
Among the city shadows:
If any, tending it, might seem
To smile, 'twas only in a dream
Of nature in the meadows.
How coldly, on its head, did fall
The sunshine, from the city Avail,
In pale refraction driven!
How sadly plashed upon its leaves
The raindrops, losing in the eaves
The first sweet news of Heaven!
The sunshine, from the city Avail,
In pale refraction driven!
How sadly plashed upon its leaves
The raindrops, losing in the eaves
The first sweet news of Heaven!
And those who planted, gathered it
In gamesome or in loving fit,
And sent it as a token
Of what their city pleasures he,—
For one, in Devon by the sea
And garden-blooms, to look on.
In gamesome or in loving fit,
And sent it as a token
Of what their city pleasures he,—
For one, in Devon by the sea
And garden-blooms, to look on.
But she, for whom the jest was meant,
With a grave passion innocent
Receiving what was given,—
Oh! if her face she turned then, . . .
Let none say 'twas to gaze again
Upon the flowers of Devon!
With a grave passion innocent
Receiving what was given,—
Oh! if her face she turned then, . . .
Let none say 'twas to gaze again
Upon the flowers of Devon!
Because, whatever virtue dwells
In genial skies—warm oracles
For gardens brightly springing,—
The flower which grew beneath your eyes,
Ah, sweetest friends, to mine supplies
A beauty worthier singing!
In genial skies—warm oracles
For gardens brightly springing,—
The flower which grew beneath your eyes,
Ah, sweetest friends, to mine supplies
A beauty worthier singing!
