An’ the dewdrops on her rosy finger-tips.
She’s a-comin’ up the medder, don’t you see her yaller gown?
She’s a-tip toe, an’ a-comin’ right this way,
With a trail o’ joy behind her, an’ a new moon for a crown,
An’ a—bless your heart! why, howdy, Lady May?
A FRAGMENT.
Love calls to me from near and far,
From every flower, from every star,
In every drop of rain I see
A jewelled finger beckon me.