Transposed Seasons
The gentian and the bluebell so Can change my calendar, I know not how the year may go, Or what the seasons are: The months, in some mysterious wise, Take their expression from her eyes. The gentian speaks to memory Of autumns long since gone, When her blue eyes smiled up at me, And heaven was flushed with dawn: 'T was autumn then and leaves were sere, But in my heart 't was spring o' the year. The bluebell says a message too Of springs long passed away, When in my eyes her eyes of blue Gazed and 't was close of day: Spring spread around her fragrant chart, But it was autumn in my heart.
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"The gentian and the bluebell so..."
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