Augustin S. Macdonald, comp. A Collection of Verse by California Poets. 1914.
By Charles S. AikenA Flower of the First
W
’Twas caught as I marched from camp,
As red as the red of her heart’s blood—
Tears made its petals so damp.
What matters her name to you?
For with love that flower is laden;
It says: “Eyes of blue—be true!”
I’d seen her the night before—
It fell, and she thought I’d lost it;
And cried, for she had no more.
Love weighs some flowers with dew;
Ah, sweet, red blossom, with tears we
Whisper: “Eyes of brown—be true!”