Classic Poem

'Twas now the freshness of the year
When fields were green and groves were gay,
When airs were soft and skies were clear,
And all things bloomed in lovely May —

Blest month, when nature in her prime
Bestows her fairest gifts on earth —
This was the time, the genial time,
She destined for her favorite's birth.

And emblems delicate she chose,
Thy gentle virtues to bespeak —
The lily and the pale, pale rose
She faintly mingled in thy cheek.

The azure of her noontide sky
With dewy gleams of morn combining,
She took to form thy speaking eye
With heaven's own blue serenely shining.

She bade the dawning's transient blush,
The light and warmth of day revealing,
At times thy pallid beauty flush
With sudden glows of thought and feeling.

But oh! the innate worth refined
She treasured in thy gentle breast;
The generous gifts of heart and mind,
They best can tell who know thee best.

Bloom on — bloom on — frank nature's child
Her favorite flower, her spotless one,
Still may she keep thee pure, unsoiled,
Still fresh, though ever shone upon.