Elizabeth

_May 1, 1891_. I. Elizabeth! Elizabeth! The first May-morning whispereth Thy gentle name in every breeze That lispeth through the young-leaved trees, New raimented in white and green Of bloom and leaf to crown thee queen;-- And, as in odorous chorus, all The orchard-blossoms sweetly call Even as a singing voice that saith Elizabeth! Elizabeth! II. Elizabeth! Lo, lily-fair, In deep, cool shadows of thy hair, Thy face maintaineth its repose.-- Is it, O sister of the rose, So better, sweeter, blooming thus Than in this briery world with us?-- Where frost o'ertaketh, and the breath Of biting winter harrieth With sleeted rains and blighting snows All fairest blooms--Elizabeth! III. Nay, then!--So reign, Elizabeth, Crowned, in thy May-day realm of death! Put forth the scepter of thy love In every star-tipped blossom of The grassy dais of thy throne! Sadder are we, thus left alone, But gladder they that thrill to see Thy mother's rapture, greeting thee. Bereaved are we by life--not death-- Elizabeth! Elizabeth!