Chrysanthemums

 

Style of the hat you were?  I do not know it;

That ‘twas a dainty dream I do confess;

I only saw the face, the face below it,

The face and eyes alight with tenderness.

Chrysanthemums, I think, your arms were holding,

And one fair hand did press them to your breast—

Oh, lucky blooms, to know such sweet enfolding!

Oh, lucky blooms, with such a place to rest!

 

I knew you not—perhaps may never know you—

I only know I saw you—see you yet—

I only had the time a glance to throw you,

Yet all through life I know I’ll not forget.

I’ll hedge a garden round with dainty wickets,

And cultivate therein those wondrous blooms,

Like those you bore, and o’er the low, white pickets

They yet shall nod their captivating plumes.

 

And you, perhaps, some day will hap to spy them,

And pause to look them over, passing by,

And should I see you when you stop to eye them,

And when you pause, if I can catch your eye,

I’ll make it known they’re yours, each blooming treasure;

I’ll give them you, if you will hold them, dear!

Lord love you, dear!  if it would give you pleasure

I’d grab my hat and quit this mundane sphere.

 

 

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