15The pinks along my garden walksHave all shot forth their summer stalks,Thronging their buds ’mong tulips hot,And blue forget-me-not.Their dazzling snows forth-bursting soonWill lade the idle breath of June:And waken thro’ the fragrant nightTo steal the pale moonlight.The nightingale at end of MayLingers each year for their display;Till when he sees their blossoms blown,He knows the spring is flown.June’s birth they greet, and when their bloomDislustres, withering on his tomb,Then summer hath a shortening day;And steps slow to decay.
15The pinks along my garden walksHave all shot forth their summer stalks,Thronging their buds ’mong tulips hot,And blue forget-me-not.Their dazzling snows forth-bursting soonWill lade the idle breath of June:And waken thro’ the fragrant nightTo steal the pale moonlight.The nightingale at end of MayLingers each year for their display;Till when he sees their blossoms blown,He knows the spring is flown.June’s birth they greet, and when their bloomDislustres, withering on his tomb,Then summer hath a shortening day;And steps slow to decay.
The pinks along my garden walksHave all shot forth their summer stalks,Thronging their buds ’mong tulips hot,And blue forget-me-not.Their dazzling snows forth-bursting soonWill lade the idle breath of June:And waken thro’ the fragrant nightTo steal the pale moonlight.The nightingale at end of MayLingers each year for their display;Till when he sees their blossoms blown,He knows the spring is flown.June’s birth they greet, and when their bloomDislustres, withering on his tomb,Then summer hath a shortening day;And steps slow to decay.
The pinks along my garden walksHave all shot forth their summer stalks,Thronging their buds ’mong tulips hot,And blue forget-me-not.Their dazzling snows forth-bursting soonWill lade the idle breath of June:And waken thro’ the fragrant nightTo steal the pale moonlight.The nightingale at end of MayLingers each year for their display;Till when he sees their blossoms blown,He knows the spring is flown.June’s birth they greet, and when their bloomDislustres, withering on his tomb,Then summer hath a shortening day;And steps slow to decay.
The pinks along my garden walksHave all shot forth their summer stalks,Thronging their buds ’mong tulips hot,And blue forget-me-not.
The pinks along my garden walks
Have all shot forth their summer stalks,
Thronging their buds ’mong tulips hot,
And blue forget-me-not.
Their dazzling snows forth-bursting soonWill lade the idle breath of June:And waken thro’ the fragrant nightTo steal the pale moonlight.
Their dazzling snows forth-bursting soon
Will lade the idle breath of June:
And waken thro’ the fragrant night
To steal the pale moonlight.
The nightingale at end of MayLingers each year for their display;Till when he sees their blossoms blown,He knows the spring is flown.
The nightingale at end of May
Lingers each year for their display;
Till when he sees their blossoms blown,
He knows the spring is flown.
June’s birth they greet, and when their bloomDislustres, withering on his tomb,Then summer hath a shortening day;And steps slow to decay.
June’s birth they greet, and when their bloom
Dislustres, withering on his tomb,
Then summer hath a shortening day;
And steps slow to decay.