The Valentine Wreath

Rosy red the hills appear With the light of morning, Beauteous clouds, in aether clear, All the east adorning; White through the mist the meadows shine Wake, my love, my Valentine! For thy locks of raven hue, Flowers of hoar-frost pearly, Crocus-cups of gold and blue, Snow-drops drooping early, With Mezereon sprigs combine Rise, my love, my Valentine! O'er the margin of the flood, Pluck the daisy peeping; Through the covert of the wood, Hunt the sorrel creeping; With the little celandine Crown my love, my Valentine. Pansies, on their lowly stems Scatter'd o'er the fallows; Hazel-buds with crimson gems, Green and glossy sallows; Tufted moss and ivy-twine, Deck my love, my Valentine. Few and simple flow'rets these; Yet, to me, less glorious Garden-beds and orchard-trees! Since this wreath victorious Binds you now for ever mine, O my Love, my Valentine.