Classic Poem

Bring orange-blossoms fairly twined,
Fair-plaited wreaths to wreathe her hair,
Sweet-smelling garlands meet to bind
Her brows, and be out-glistened there;
Bring radiant blooms and jewels rare
Against the happy bridal day; —
A sound of parting thrills the air: —
Hearken a little to my lay.

Now, blossoms shine, but ye shall find
Beside her brow ye are not fair;
Breathe sweetly an' ye have a mind,
But with her breath can ye compare?
Bright garlands, ye less lovely are,
Nathless adorn her while ye may, —
Even now her thoughts are otherwhere: —
Hearken a little to my lay.

Now hasten, maids; the flowers wind
Amidst her hair with loving care;
Wind roses, for their red consigned
Beside her blushes to despair,
Such happy beauty doth she wear;
But haste, — her glad feet scarce will stay,
Nor us she heeds, for he is near: —
Hearken a little to my lay.

ENVOI

He comes, they go, a blissful pair;
Full willingly she speeds away;
Full lightly heeds she this my prayer, —
Hearken a little to my lay.