'er it creeping,
And she thought upon the flowers fading on the mossy lea.

But she turn'd her till the paleness, and the tears that would be
flowing
Faded from her that they might not be the mirrors of his own;
Smiling comfort on him ever, evermore as they were going,
For she said "Ah! there are none to smile on him but I alone."

III.

He is lying in the sunshine with the blithe birds round him singing,
There are flowers beside his pillow, there are flowers beneath his
feet,
Summer pours her treasures round him, like a gentle maiden flinging
Fragrant blossoms from her bosom o'er a path to make it sweet.

She is kneeling in the sunshine with the radiant glory o'er her,
And his palm is on her tresses, her's are folded on her breast;
He were very calm and happy, only for the love he bore her,
Which was far too sweet a feeling to resign it e'en for rest.

"Bright May! dear May! draw still nearer, nearer, dear May! till my
spirit
Sun itself within your brightness, as the lark doth in the day;
Soon the air will be so lumined that my weakness will not bear it,
So I'll gather new strength from thee to support me on my way.

"There are tears within your eyes, May, let me kiss them from your
eyes, May,
They will taste as sweet to me as do the dews upon the rose;
Dear eyes how I love them! they oft tell me of the skies, May,
Tell me secrets of the Blessed more than mortal spirit knows.

"Ah! I knew not in the old time half the sweetness that doth linger
Round the simple things of Nature which the proud heart passes by,
Now I see there's not a wildflower but doth point with warning
finger,
To the unobservant passer, truths of immortality.

"Bright May, thou shalt be my beadsman, and thy golden tresses
drooping
Round thee shall be all the vesture that my loving soul shall seek;
Thou shalt be a meet confessor for a lowly poet stooping
To breathe forth his secret failings, and read pardon on thy cheek.

"Bright May! I have been a strayer from the narrow path that wanders
Through this world to lead the traveller to a glad eternity,
I have been an erring madman, for the blind heart never ponders
Till the fancied light it follows lead it from felicity.

"I have been most false and perjured, false to all a poet's duty,
Even whilst my heart was boasting proudly of a poet's creed,
I have l