  To F. S. W. Rosy, and fair, and fragrant, Your vassals, the flowers, come, Bearing a welcome to us From the heart of your sunlit home; Delicate garlands, wreathing With brightness these dreary hours; Red lips and white lips, breathing Of you, our Lady of Flowers! Violets, blue as your eyes are And roses, as soft as your cheek,— Daphne, sweet as your words are,— Primroses pallid and meek; Feathery, waving fern-plumes, And blossoms from Summer bowers, Each one bearing a message From you, our Lady of Flowers! Giver of brightness and beauty, And Queen of this fragrant throng, How shall we thank you or praise you But feebly in this poor song? Whom richly your kindness dowers, We must be silent and love you,— Love you, our Lady of Flowers! November 25, 1878. [Decorative image unavailable.] |
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