This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
may-day in new england.
161

We told the little light coquettes
They needn't show their bashful faces,—
"One sigh," we said, "one fragrant sigh,
We'll soon discover where you lie !"
The roguish things were still as death—
They wouldn't even breathe a breath.
Alas! there's none so deaf, I fear,
As those who do not choose to hear!

We wander'd to an open place,
And sought the sunny buttercup—
That, so delighted, in your face
gust like a pleasant smile looks up.
We peep'd into a shady spot
To find the blue "Forget-me-not!"
At last a far-off voice we heard,
A voice as of a fountain-fall,
That softer than a singing-bird,
Did answer to our merry call!
So wildly sweet the breezes brought
That tone in every pause of ours,
That we, delighted, fondly thought
It must be talking of the flowers!
We knew the violets loved to hide
The cool and lulling wave beside:—