Classic Poem

Oh, radiant is the morning!
All laughing lies the sea!
Fair Alice is adorning
Her golden hair for me!

The dew is on the lilacs,
May-green is in the trees,
And near her budded smilax
White hawthorne draws the bees.

And we are going riding
Into the morning's sheen,
With love and triumph hiding
Her laughing eyes between.

I swore that life was sadness, —
A baffled, sordid thing;
I never dreamt such gladness
Could blossom with the spring!

Oh! I'll ne'er forget that morning, —
Whate'er the future be, —
Dear Alice was adorning
Her golden hair for me!