Classic Poem

T HERE'S a flowery shrub the May brings
(Never mind the name),
'Tis enough to know its color sings
Like a living flame;

And my heart sings, looking at it there
In my garden small;
Of the growths so many and so fair,
Fairest of them all.

For, what time I stood and asked the bloom:
" Shall I ever be
Happier than in this scented room
I am now with thee? "

Then, uplifting graciously the head
(How the garden hums!)
Soft but clear the flowery creature said:
" When your lady comes! "