THE VISION OF VIOLETS.
125
THE VISION OF VIOLETS.
NE shining morn in a vanished MayWe wandered away from the tiresome town,
To one of the isles in the dimpled bay;
And warmly the loving sun looked down
On pleasant slopes where the green fields lay,
And fresh-turned furrows all damp and brown.
Heavy with fragrance was all the air,
And birds and bees were astir that day;
The apple-orchards were white and fair,
And over them softly a rose-light lay,
Like that warm blush which the snow-Alps wear,
Watched and worshipped from far away.
And birds and bees were astir that day;
The apple-orchards were white and fair,
And over them softly a rose-light lay,
Like that warm blush which the snow-Alps wear,
Watched and worshipped from far away.
Stooping, with dew-besprinkled brows,
We entered under the rosy roof,
Where the still air slept in a dreamy drowse,
So shutting the living world aloof,
That the gossamer webs on the bloomy boughs
Were all unbroken in warp and woof.
We entered under the rosy roof,
Where the still air slept in a dreamy drowse,
So shutting the living world aloof,
That the gossamer webs on the bloomy boughs
Were all unbroken in warp and woof.
