Henry O'Meara Ballads of America

I would I had some flowers o' the spring that might
Become your time o' day; daffodils,
That come before the swallow dares;
Violets dim, But sweeter than the lids of
June's eyes, Or Gytherea's breath.

WINTER'S TALE.

THE SPRING BULBS' ADVENT

NOW from their chrysalis trance our bulb-loves peer
  From brumal bound unprisoned to assume
The hues that speak their forms' penumbra near -
Nigh crystalled prime of this new flower-lit year
   Whose tints the prisms of the spring illume.

Here Tulip-cups cheer Flora's advent hours,
  Sad Hyacinths bear Apollo's symbolled plaint,
Self-plumed Narcissi vaunt florescent powers -
Join Daffodils, Jonquils - all akin in flowers -
   While vernal fingers fresh their petals paint.

Lone Colchicums their plighted leafage show
  As earnest of the bloom in autumn shed -
But lily vestals, reflex of the 'parted snow,
Prescient reveal their Resurrection glow -
   A halo gleaming round each aureoled head.

Thus souls resurgent in supernal guise,
   As bulbs, to life of loftier being cling;
From earth-clad germ to sun-rayed growth arise -
Gazing relumed, intent upon the skies -
   Unfading flower in sempiternal Spring!

TO LAWRENCE BARRETT	CONTENTS	A PRECOCIOUS HYACINTH

Henry O'Meara Ballads of America

THE SPRING BULBS' ADVENT

Edited and formatted by Sheldon Brown