Page:The ascent of man by Blind, Mathilde.djvu/194



make the sunshine of my heart
 * And its tempestuous shower;

Sometimes the thought of you is like
 * A lilac bush in flower,

Yea, honey-sweet as hives in May. And then the pang of it will strike My bosom with a fiery smart, As though love's deeply planted dart
 * Drained all its life away.

My thoughts hum round you, Dear, like bees
 * About a bank of thyme,

Or round the yellow blossoms of
 * The heavy-scented lime.