Zinzendorff and Other Poems/The Flowers of Spring


THE FLOWERS OF SPRING.

To a Sick Friend.


Friend! around whose couch of pain,
Fond Hope lingereth not in vain,
Thou, whom strong and saintly prayer
Still imploreth Heaven to spare,
Thou hast watch'd our wild retreats,
Thou hast priz'd our simple sweets,
Long our voiceless lore hast known,
Listen to our whisper'd tone,
                             Come back to us!

Love, with warmth that ever glows,
Speaketh through our lips of rose,
Friendship, to our dewy sighs
Trusts her hoarded memories,
Gratitude, with Penury pale,
Hasting to our native vale,
Bade us fervent, for their sake,
Plead, and no denial take,
                             Come back to us.

Tardy Spring hath held us long,
From thy bowers of light and song,
Now on vine, and shrub, and tree,
See! we bloom to welcome thee,
For thy tasteful eye we pine,
Wilt thou teach us where to twine?
Nesting birds with tenderest lay,
Swell their chorus, as we say
                             Come back to us.


Take our message to thy breast,
Let us on thy pillow rest,
From blest clime, and seraph song,
We will not detain thee long,
For Earth's most protracted day
Like our blossom fleets away,
Friend to us, and Nature's smile,
Only for a little while
                             Come back to us.