A BREAK.

Oh, the scent of the hyacinth blossom!

The joy of that night,

But the grievous awaking!

The speed of my flight

Thro’ the dawn redly breaking!

Gray lay the still sea;

Naked hillside and lea;

And gray with night frost

The wide garden I crossed!

But the hyacinth beds were a-bloom.

I stooped and plucked one —

In an instant‘ twas done,—

And I heard, not far off, a gun boom!

In my bosom

I thrust the crushed blossom;

And turned, and looked back

Where She stood at her pane

Waving sadly farewell once again;

Then down the dim track

Fled amain,

With the flower in my bosom.

Oh, the scent of the hyacinth blossom!