LORD TENNYSON
From the meadow your walks have left so sweet That whenever a March-wind sighs
He sets the jewel-print of your feet In violets blue as your eyes,
To the woody hollows in which we meet And the valleys of Paradise.
The slender acacia would not shake
One long milk-bloom on the tree, The white lake-blossom fell into the lake,
As the pimpernel do7ed 011 the lea; But the rose was awake all night for your sake,
Knowing your promise to me, The lilies and roses were all awake,
They sigh'd for the dawn and thee.
Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls, Come hither, the dances are done,
In gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls, Queen lily and rose in one,
Shine out, little head, sunning over with curls, To the flowers, and be their sun.
There has fallen a splendid tear
From the passion-flower at the gate, She is coming, my dove, my dear;
She is coming, my life, my fate; The red rose cries, c She is near, she is near;'
And the white rose weeps, 'She is late;' The larkspur listens, C I hear, I hear;'
And the lily whispers, f l wait.'
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