FIRST BLOOM OF LOVE.

O girl of spring! O brown-eyed girl!

Gathering violets near the woods,

Whose coy young petals half unfurl

The mystery of their dulcet moods.

O blushing girl! O girl of spring!

I hear no answer move the air;

Yet eyelids hovering on the wing

Reveal deep meanings curtained there.

O girl of spring! O spring of love!

Let silent violets be the speech

From you to me, and let them prove

What maiden silence will not teach!