« 上一頁繼續 »
Prophet of delight and mirth,
TO THE SAME FLOWER.
Pleasures newly found are sweet
When they lie about our feet:
February last my heart
First at sight of thee was glad;
All unheard of as thou art.
Thou must needs, I think, have had,
Celandine! and long ago,
Praise of which I nothing know.
I have not a doubt but he,
Soon as gentle breezes bring
Often have I sigh'd to measure
Blithe of heart, from week to week