WHEN DOGWOOD BRIGHTENS THE GROVES
OF SPRING
When dogwood brightens the groves of spring And the gold of jasmine gleams, When mating birds in the forest sing, Ah! that is the time for dreams, For thoughts of love that are always new Though as old as the ancient world Forever fresh as the Maytime dew In the breast of the rose impearled. When timid green on the thorn tree grows Like love at the verge of hate And air from the apple orchard flows Through the springtide s open gate, When drowsy winds o er the lilies pass, And the wings of the thrush are shy; When violets bloom in the new-born grass, With the tints of a tropic sky; When jonquils borrow the sun s warm ray, And the woodbine lures the bee; When the heart that was once a waif and stray Returns like a ship from sea Ah! that is the time that no man grieves Who woos with the wooing dove, For the hearts of men and the hearts of leaves Are throbbing with hope and love!.
