The crowd that flies the broken heart,
To thee shall no example prove;
And thou, when all the rest depart,
Shalt watch with hope, and bless with love.
MAY MORNING.
Thou art abroad betimes—the laughing wind
Ruffling thy tresses, and with ardent kiss
Heightening the rich carnation of thy cheek,
And thy lip’s roseate grain!
Away! away!