Classic Poem

I

In Summer when the rose-bushes
Have names like all the sweetest hushes
In a bird's song — Susan, Hannah,
Martha, Harriet, and Susannah,
My coral neck
And my little song
Are very extra
And very Susie;
A little kiss like a gold bee sings
My childish life so sweet and rosy . . .
Like country clouds of clouted cream
The round and flaxen blond leaves seem,
And dew in trills
And dew in pearls
Falls from every gardener's posy;
Marguerites, roses,
A flaxen lily,
Water-chilly
Buttercups where the dew reposes;
In fact, each flower, young and silly,
The gardener ties in childish posies.

II

The clouds are bunched roses,
And the bunches seem
As thick as cream,
The country dozes, and I dream.
In a gown like a cauliflower,
My country cousin is —
So said Susie
And her sister Liz.
Blossoms hang on trees above,
Soft and thick as any dove,
They mock my love;
Yet I pluck those feathers sweet
With my cold coral hands so like the
Small cold feet
Of a little sad bird
On a budding branch heard.