Maxioms by Helen Hunt Jackson (helen Hunt)
For April sobs while these are so glad
April weeps while these are so gay,--
Weeps like read more
For April sobs while these are so glad
April weeps while these are so gay,--
Weeps like a tired child who had,
Playing with flowers, lost its way.
On the king's gate the moss grew gray;
The king came not. They call'd him dead;
And read more
On the king's gate the moss grew gray;
The king came not. They call'd him dead;
And made his eldest son, one day,
Slave in his father's stead.
O month when they who love must love and wed.
O month when they who love must love and wed.
O May, sweet-voice one, going thus before,
Forever June may pour her warm red wine
Of life read more
O May, sweet-voice one, going thus before,
Forever June may pour her warm red wine
Of life and passions,--sweeter days are thine!
Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame;
Each to his passion; what's in a name?
Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame;
Each to his passion; what's in a name?
