Classic Poem

O SWEET wild roses that bud and blow
Along the way that my Love may go,
O moss-green rocks that touch her dress,
And grass that her dear feet may press;

O maple tree whose brooding shade
For her a summer tent has made;
O goldenrod and brave sunflower
That flame before my maiden's bower;

O butterfly on whose light wings
The golden summer sunshine clings;
O birds that flit o'er wheat and wall,
And from cool hollows pipe and call;

O falling water whose distant roar
Sounds like the waves upon the shore;
O winds that down the valley sweep,
And lightnings from the clouds that leap;

O skies that bend above the hills,
O gentle rains and babbling rills,
O moon and sun that beam and burn,—
Keep safe my Love till I return!