As for an altar, wove the radiant band?
Whose gentle nurture brought, from hidden dells,
That gem-like wealth of blossoms and sweet bells,
To blush through every season? Blight and chill
Might touch the changing woods; but duly still
For years those gorgeous coronals renew’d,
And brightly clasping marble spear and helm,
Even through mid-winter, fill’d the solitude
With a strange smile—a glow of summer’s realm.
Surely some fond and fervent heart was pouring