Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
William Philpot. 18231889757. Maritæ Suæ
OF all the flowers rising now, | |
Thou only saw’st the head | |
Of that unopen’d drop of snow | |
I placed beside thy bed. | |
In all the blooms that blow so fast, | 5 |
Thou hast no further part, | |
Save those the hour I saw thee last, | |
I laid above thy heart. | |
Two snowdrops for our boy and girl, | |
A primrose blown for me, | 10 |
Wreathed with one often-play’d-with curl | |
From each bright head for thee. | |
And so I graced thee for thy grave, | |
And made these tokens fast | |
With that old silver heart I gave, | 15 |
My first gift—and my last. | |
I dream’d, her babe upon her breast, | |
Here she might lie and calmly rest | |
Her happy eyes on that far hill | |
That backs the landscape fresh and still. | 20 |
I hoped her thoughts would thrid the boughs | |
Where careless birds on love carouse, | |
And gaze those apple-blossoms through | |
To revel in the boundless blue. | |
But now her faculty of sight | 25 |
Is elder sister to the light, | |
And travels free and unconfined | |
Through dense and rare, through form and mind. | |
Or else her life to be complete | |
Hath found new channels full and meet— | 30 |
Then, O, what eyes are leaning o’er, | |
If fairer than they were before! |