Blessings

God bless the little orchard brown

Where the sap stirs these quickening days.

Soon in a white and rosy gown

The trees will give great praise.

God knows I have it in my mind,

The white house with the golden eaves.

God knows since it is left behind

That something grieves and grieves.

God keep the small house in his care,

The garden bordered all in box,

Where primulas and wallflowers are

And crocuses in flocks.

God keep the little rooms that ope

One to another, swathed in green,

Where honeysuckle lifts her cup

With jessamine between.

God bless the quiet old grey head

That dreams beside the fire of me,

And makes home there for me indeed

Over the Irish Sea.