Truth Crushed To The Earth

The Air Was Fragrant With A Thousand Trodden Aromatic Herbs, With Fields Of Lavender, And With The Brightest Roses Blushing In Tufts All Over The Meadows.

The Little Wind-flower, Whose Just Opened Eye Is Blue As The Spring Heaven It Gazes At.

Ye Winds Ye Unseen Currents Of The Air, Softly Ye Played A Few Brief Hours Ago; Ye Bore The Murmuring Bee; Ye Tossed The Air O'er Maiden Cheeks, That Took A Fresher Glow; Ye Rolled The Round White Cloud Through Depths Of Blue; Ye Shook From Shaded Flowers The Lingering Dew; Before You The Catalpa's Blossoms Flew, Light Blossoms, Dropping On The Grass Like Snow.

Stand Here By My Side And Turn, I Pray, On The Lake Below Thy Gentle Eyes; The Clouds Hang Over It, Heavy And Gray, And Dark And Silent The Water Lies; And Out Of That Frozen Mist The Snow In Wavering Flakes Begins To Flow; Flake After Flake, They Sink In The Dark And Silent Lake.

Do Not The Bright June Roses Blow To Meet Thy Kiss At Morning Hours?