Classic Poem

“Marguerite! Marguerite!” call the lilies
Across the dewy lawn,—
“Come with thy smile to welcome
The flush of laughing Dawn.

“Come, we are weary waiting;
Already Dawn has passed,
And o'er our sleeping petals
A flood of dewdrops cast.

“We were dreaming when she woke us,
As she cried—‘Awake! 'tis day!’
And we heard her call the song-birds
As she passed along her way.

“Marguerite! Marguerite!” call the roses,
“Come, with thy face so fair,—
Come with the golden sunrays,
Agleaming on thy hair.

The clematis bells are ringing
Beneath the sheltered eaves,—
“Come, with thine eyes like violets,
Dew-steeped beneath their leaves.

“Come, with thy fairy footsteps,—
O'er the modest daisies trip;
Come, with thy sweet face blushing,
Tinged like each daisy lip.”

“Marguerite! Marguerite!” calls the streamlet,
As it runs towards the sea,
“In the mirror of my shining depths
The Nereides wait for thee.”

The song-birds sing “She is coming
Over the meadow way;
We can hear her fresh voice singing
Some chanson bright and gay.”

“We can see her,” sing the roses,—
“Her head with its sunny sheen;”
And one tall lily murmurs
“She is coming—My queen, my queen!”