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ROTHERMEL'S WILLOW.
Till, when the mornings grew warm and strange,
There came a wondrous and beautiful change,—
There came a wondrous and beautiful change,—
So gradual, silent, and full of doubt,
One scarce dared say that the leaves were out,
One scarce dared say that the leaves were out,
Though every trailing limb was seen
Begirt with a halo of delicate green.
Begirt with a halo of delicate green.
Yet, all the spring-time, the sighing tree
Had something mournful to say to me.
Had something mournful to say to me.
*****
And now the summer-time, wide and free,
Broadens and brightens on town and tree;
Broadens and brightens on town and tree;
But still does the willow strive and yearn,
While rain-showers gather and sunbeams burn.
While rain-showers gather and sunbeams burn.
Often and often I turn away
From my steady vigils by night and day,—
From my steady vigils by night and day,—
From the patient eyes, and the paling cheek,
And the pallid fingers, so wan and weak,
And the pallid fingers, so wan and weak,
