BY HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD
FLAME and flower and the blue,
While a breath from far Eden blows,
And the old earth born anew,
And the east a bursting rose.
Music of birds and bees,
Wild and full as the Dorian mood,
The whir of the wing, and the breeze
Bringing the spice of the wood.
Dear the dreams of the night,
And sweet are the hours that are gone.
But sweeter the hour in its flight
Of a dew-drenched summer dawn!