'Twas one of the charmed days
When the genius of God doth flow,
The wind may alter twenty ways,
A tempest cannot blow;
It may blow north, it still is warm;
Or south, it still is clear;
Or east, it smells like a clover farm;
Or west, no thunder fear.
Emerson.
Where woodbines wander, and the wallflower pushes its way alone;
And where in wafts of fragrance, sweetbrier bushes make themselves known,
With banks of violets for southern breezes to seek and find,
And trellis'd jessamine that trembles in the summer wind.
Where clove carnations overgrow the places where they were set,
And, mist-like, in the intervening spaces creeps mignonette.