DAY and night, and night and day,
I pray, and cannot choose but pray,
With lowly bended brows :
God, let the glory come to pass
Of Easter-daisies in the grass,
And green leaves on the boughs !
All sick and pale my Mona lies,
All pale and sick, with longing eyes, —
A flower that dies for rain ;
And day and night my heart’s wild beats
Cry for a thousand sweetest sweets
To charm away her pain.
O waters bound with curdling rime !
Come dancing on before your time,
Through mists of silver spray;
And, picking out your tenderest trills,
Come yellow bills, come mellow bills,
And sing your lives away !
O little golden-bodied bees,
Hum tunes her heavy heart to ease !
And butterflies, so fair,
Upon your wings of red and brown,
Balance before her up and down,
And brighten all the air 1
All buds with unfulfilled hours
Have birth at once in perfect flowers,
I charge you, in love’s name ;
For when the unsanctioned is allied
So nearly to the sanctified,
Not heaven itself can blame !
Then shall the lily leave the shade,
And tend her like a waiting-maid,
Making her pillow sweet ;
The rose shall to her window climb,
And tell her that the low-leaved thyme
Is waiting for her feet.
O drowsy-lidded violets !
Constellate flower that never sets !
And blush-bells, low and small,
And pinks, and pansies, plain and pied,
And sovereign marigolds beside, —
My Mona needs you all !
O star-flower, pushing from your breast
The dead leaves, shine out with the rest!
And from the garden beds,
Ye daffodillies, made of light,
To please her with a pretty sight,
Toss high your lovely heads !
Low lying in her pallid pain,
A flower that thirsts and dies for rain,
I see her night and day ;
And every heart-beat is a cry,
And every breath I breathe a sigh,—
O for the May ! the May !