Which falls around when all is still and hush—
And falls unseen until its bright drops strew
With odours, herb and flower, and bank, and bush
O love, when womanhood is in the flush,
And man's a young and an unspotted thing!
His first breathed word and her half conscious blush,
Are fair us light in heaven, or flowers in spring—
The first hour of true love is worth our worshipping.
LOVE OF COUNTRY.
"I would not leave old Scotland's mountain gray,