FIRST BLOOM OF LOVE.

O girl of spring! O brown-eyed girl! Gathering violets near the woods, Whose coy young petals half unfurl The mystery of their dulcet moods.

O blushing girl! O girl of spring! I hear no answer move the air; Yet eyelids hovering on the wing Reveal deep meanings curtained there.

O girl of spring! O spring of love! Let silent violets be the speech From you to me, and let them prove What maiden silence will not teach!