by Ann Batten Cristall, English poet and schoolteacher

Through springtime walks, with flowers perfumed,
I chased a wild, capricious, fair
Where hyacinths and jonquils bloomed,
Chanting gay sonnets through the air;
Hid amid a briary dell
Or ‘neath a Hawthorn-tree,
Her sweet enchantments led me on
And still deluded me.

While summer’s ‘splendent glory smiles
My ardent love in vain essayed,
I strove to win her heart by wiles,
But still a thousand pranks she played;
Still o’er each, sunburned furzy hill,
Wild, playful, gay, and free,
She laughed and scorned; I chased her still,
And still, she bantered me.

When autumn waves her golden ears
And wafts o’er fruits her pregnant breath,
The sprightly lark its pinion rears;
I chased her o’er the daisied heath,
And all around was glee -  
Still, wanton as the timid hart,  
She swiftly flew from me.

Now winter lights its cheerful fire,  
While jests with frolic mirth resound
And draws the wandering beauty nigher,  
‘Tis now too cold to rove around;  
The Christmas- game, the playful dance,
Incline her heart to glee —  
Mutual we glow, and kindling love
Draws every wish to me.

 

 


As featured on
The Daily Gardener podcast:

Words inspired by the garden are the sweetest, most beautiful words of all.
Through Springtime Walks

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