To lips that would utter, to hands that would scatter
Love’s seed on the paths of the world.
Oh, the heavy burden of love ungiven:
My breast doth this burden bear;
Deep in my bosom the unblown blossom—
My world-love that withers there.
Grace Fallow Norton
“I SAT AMONG THE GREEN LEAVES”
I sat among the green leaves, and heard the nuts falling,
The blood-red butterflies were gold against the sun,