“When the Lord Christ to Salem passed,
And sweetly everywhere
Fresh fragrant leaves the people cast
And boughs out-budding fair,—
O, May! had I been with them too,
Not shadowy branches dim,
But richest flowers that drank the dew
I would have brought to Him!
“Yes, close beside Him, looking up
Into His tender face—
The lily’s gold and silver cup,
The rose’s heart of grace,
And every bud most bright and gay,
In love I would have given;
I could have gathered flowers all day
For Christ, the King of heaven.
“I wish He were on earth once more,
Within this forest-dell;
Would we not bring Him shining store
Of hedge-rose and bluebell?
He gave us all their scented breath,
He gave this summer morn:
O, could we only twine a wreath
For Him who wore the thorn!”
“Still we may gather flowers for God,”
Said softly sister May;
“The wild flowers of this woodland sod
Are sweet to Him today:
For, Ernest darling! think again—
Where are these flowers to go?
To little children full of pain
And weakness, want, and woe.
“The hospital at eventide
Shall shine like fairy-bowers,
And little hearts that long have sighed
Shall smile to see the flowers:
O, gather blossoms for the sad,
The weary and the lone,
And make the dear Lord Jesus glad
By caring for his own!”
ML 04/07/1918