A Birthday Trifle

Here in this gold-green evening end, While air is soft and sky is clear, What tender message shall I send To her I hold so dear? What rose of song with breath like myrrh, And leaf of dew and fair pure beams Shall I select and give to her— The lady of my dreams? Alas! the blossom I would take, The song as sweet as Persian speech, And carry for my lady’s sake, Is not within my reach. I have no perfect gift of words, Or I would hasten now to send A ballad full of tunes of birds To please my lovely friend. But this pure pleasure is my own, That I have power to waft away A hope as bright as heaven’s zone On this her natal day. May all her life be like the light That softens down in spheres divine, “As lovely as a Lapland night,” All grace and chastened shine!