Lines on Receiving a Bunch of Wild Hyacinths by Post.

A poem by John Hartley

Sweet, drooping, azure tinted bells,
How dear you are;
Bringing the scent of shady dells,
To me from far;
Telling of spring and gladsome sunny hours, -
Nature's bright jewels!=-heart-refreshing flowers!

Oh, for a stroll when opening day
Silvers the dew,
Kissing the buds, whilst zephyrs play
As though they knew
Their gentle breath was needed, just to shake
Your slumbering beauties, and to bid you wake.

Far from the moilding town and trade,
How sweet to spend
An hour amid the misty glade,
And find a friend
In every tiny blossom, and to lie,
And dream of Him whose love can never die.

Ye are Gael's messengers, sent here
To make us glad;
Mute, and yet eloquent, to cheer
The heart that's sad;
To turn our thoughts from sordid earthly gains,
To that bright home where peace for ever reigns.

How dare we murmur, when around
On every side,
Such proofs of His great love abound,
O'er the world wide?
Faith cannot die within these hearts of ours,
If we but learn the lessons of the flowers.

Thanks to the one whose kindly heart
Was moved to send
This gift, when we were far apart,
To cheer a friend.
Sweet meditation now my mind employs;
A pleasure pure, and one which never cloys.

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