POETRY.
LOVE-FLOWERS.
Oii ! who was watching when Love came by,
When Love came here in the glad spring hours ? The scarf was torn from his laughing eye, And he wore instead a wreath of flowers.
The wreath of flowers his head went round And about his eyes, as the scarf had been ; But in vain the flowery band was bound, For he peeped the flowers and leaves between.
He wore no quiver, he bore no bow,
And innocent looked as a blinded boy ; With flowers about him, above, below, The spirit he seemed of spring and joy.
But here and there he let fall a flower, The cruel, the bright little blinded god ; And watching, I saw that hour by hour These blooms took root in the green spring sod.
And whoso plucks the flowers that grow From the blooms Love flung from his wreaths above, Though sweetest-seeming of blossoms they blow, His heart shall be hot with the madness of love.
F. W. B.
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