Ah, quite alone these April days
It blossoms to evoke my praise;
And hyacinthine scents are shed
To bless and cheer me, hither led.
Upon this sheltered, upland knoll,
At early dawn I often stroll;
White clusters edged with crimson hue
Lie here, impearled with crystal dew.
The leaves, like memories, evergreen,
The blooms, like truth, of purest sheen;