WHERE BLUE BELLS NOD.
Where blue-bells nod beneath the trees
And violets scent the summer breeze
I love to lie the whole day long
And listen to the wild bird’s song,
While bees hum in their harmonies.
Proud wealth can buy its days of ease,
But not made up of hours like these;
To none doth rank or fame belong
Where blue-bells nod.
In vain the arts may strive to please
The sense with novel images;
For me, this sweet, cool fern among,
All Nature’s right, all Art is wrong;
Ah! leave me with my birds and bees,
Where blue-bells nod.
LOSS AND GAIN.
Since thou hast come the world and I have parted,
Like chance-met friends whom love has never chained,
Away it spins, mad-brained and merry-hearted,
While I count o’er what I have lost and gained.
My losses are the breath of idle greeting,
The siren-song of pleasure, folly’s laugh,
Wealth’s patron smile, the pedant’s wit most fleeting,
And all that goes to make youth’s epitaph.
My gain is thee, who hath removed my blindness,
Torn off the mask of sin, stript shame’s disguise,
Shown me man’s frailty, taught me gold’s unkindness,
And made a very heaven beneath the skies.
So do I feel like one from dreams awaking
Who laughs at night and all its foolish making.