KINSHIP

There is no flower of wood or lea,

No April flower, as fair as she:

O white anemone, who hast

The wind's wild grace,

Know her a cousin of thy race,

Into whose face

A presence like the wind's hath passed.

There is no flower of wood or lea,

No Maytime flower, as fair as she:

O bluebell, tender with the blue

Of limpid skies,

Thy lineage hath kindred ties

In her, whose eyes

The heav'n' s own qualities imbue.

There is no flower of wood or lea,

No Juneday flower, as fair as she:

Rose,— odorous with beauty of

Life's first and best,—

Behold thy sister here confessed!

Whose maiden breast

Is fragrant with the dreams of love.