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Page 153 - When the war has rolled away, With dance and tabor, pipe and drum, And all make holiday. Then came the cowslip, Like a dancer in the fair, She spread her little mat of green, And on it danced she. With a fillet bound about her brow, A fillet round her happy brow, A golden fillet round her brow, And rubies in her hair.
Page 152 - CIRST came the primrose, •*• On the bank high, Like a maiden looking forth From the window of a tower When the battle rolls below, So look'd she, And saw the storms go by. Then came the wind-flower In the valley left behind, As a wounded maiden, pale With purple streaks of woe, When the battle has roll'd by Wanders to and fro, So totter'd she, Dishevell'd in the wind. Then came the daisies, On the first of May, Like a banner'd show's advance While the crowd runs by the way, With ten thousand...