Classic Poem

Hither and thither they swung, Madeline Hays,—
The bloom-loaded apple-tree boughs,
The rose-scented apple-tree boughs,
The pink-tinted apple-tree boughs,—
In the merry May days.

Hither and thither they swung, Madeline Hays;
The blossoms and you together,
Rose-tinted, and light as a feather,
All in the merry May weather,
My rose-tinted Madeline Hays.

Down in the wet, green grass, Madeline Hays,
Where the brown bees cluster and hover;
Down in the cowslips and clover,
With the apple-tree blooms sprinkled over,
I awaited you, Madeline Hays.

Down in the wet, green grass, Madeline Hays,
Ankle-deep, I pleaded and flattered,
While the blackbird whistled and chattered,
And the pink blossoms pelted and pattered,
All in the merry May days.

“Come down, come down to me, Madeline Hays!”
I pleaded, and pleaded in vain;
While the pink, pelting rain
And your laugh of disdain
Only answered me, Madeline Hays.

“Come down, come down to me, Madeline Hays!”
I pleaded, and flattered once more;
And you laughed in my face as before,
Till the wind blew down with a roar!—
What happened then, Madeline Hays?

The wind blew down with a roar, Madeline Hays,
Breaking branches and boughs in the race,
Blowing blossoms and buds in my face;
What else did I catch and embrace
As the bough broke, Madeline Hays?

Soft, yellow silk hair, Madeline Hays,
Unrolling its lovely Greek twist,
Blowing out its goldening mist,—
It was this that I caught first and kissed,
My bloom-blushing Madeline Hays!

Then through hair all a-dazzle, Madeline Hays,
Eyes and mouth, cheek and chin too,
Out of the dazzle came glimmering through;
All the love colors,—red, white, and blue,—
What could a man do, Madeline Hays?