To A Bunch Of Wild Flowers

OH ! deem me not cruel, bright, many-hu'd flowers,
That I bear you away from the meads and the bowers,
Where the butterfly might on your petals alight.
And the breeze gather perfume to shed in its flight ;
For T bear you away, in your beauty and bloom.
To cheer and enliven the solemn sick room
Of one who still lo\res, with a love deep and true.
Your hues, odours, and foims, and the spots where you grew.

He will gaze on your beauties witli pleasure and pride.
As you stand in a vase by his quiet bedside.
And he'll talk of the days when, fleet-footed and strong.
Through the woods and the meads he went rambling along,
As delighted and gay, and as free from all care.
As the fawns of the park or the birds of the air ;
And, when sleep for awhile softly steals o'er his brain.
In his dreams he will tread all his old haunts again.

He will wander away through the green winding lanes.
Where the bright golden gorse in its gay glory reigns ;
Where the rays of the starwort are fair to the sight,
And the speedwell discloses its eyelets of white ;
Where the brown linnet sits on the hedgerow's frail spray,
And elatedly carols his tenderest lay ;
While above, in the blooms of the old chestnut trees,
Sounds the satisfied hum of the amber-zon'd bees.

He will wander along by the bright streamlet's side,
Where the murmuring waves by the sweet hawthorns glide ;
Where the tall, graceful crane's-bill displays its fair head.
And the cardamine's petals wide open are spread ;
While the sooty-wing'd merle, darting off in affright.
Shakes a shower of white blooms o'er its surface most bright.
While swiftly away the suspicious trout glide
In their deepest retreats from the gazer to hide.

When the sun brightly shines in the sky overhead.
The soft, emerald turf of the meads he will tread ;
Where the cowslip erects its pale fairly-fleck'd bells.
While beside it the orchis in calm beauty dwells ;
Where the crowfoot displays its bright beakers of gold.
And the daisies their purple-tipp'd petals unfold ;
While borne up aloft, on his pinions so strong,
The rosset-rob'd skylark emits his glad song.

Through the woods and the glades his glad way he will wend
Where the strawberries creep and the bright blue-bells bend ;
Where their sweet-smelling blossoms the violets show,
And the primroses pale still in large clusters grow ;
While distant and near, in the trees all around.
The enrapturing lays of the happy birds sound.
And the lapse of the musical streamlet anear.
Is a fount of delight to the listener's ear.

Then deem me not cruel, bright many hu'd flowers !
That I bear you away from the meads and the bowers.
Where the butterfly might on your petals alight ;
And the breeze gather perfume to shed in its flight ;
For I bear you away, in your beauty and bloom,
To cheer and enliven the solemn sick room
Of one who still loves, with a love deep and true.
Your hues, odours, and forms, and the spots where you grew.

by John Bradford

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