Page:Florence Earle Coates Mine and Thine 1904 086.jpg



saw the myriad blooming plants

That mark the hallowed morn;

He thought upon a lowly mound

In a far land, forlorn,

Where yearning love would never come

To place or flower or leaf,

Where lonely love would never bring

Its heartache for relief.

When, lo! athwart his musings, came

Again that strange appeal