NONEO DUM MOVED 



The blackbirds are building their nests in the 



bushes, 



And whistle at work, as the work people do ; 

 The trees swing their censors, the wind comes in 



gushes 



Of delicate scent mixed of honey and dew. 

 Now loud and now low through the gar- 



rulous trees 



A burst of gay music is blown with the 

 breeze. 



Oh, the lilacs, the lilacs are glowing and blowing ! 



They pluck them by bushels as blithely they go 



Through the green, scented dusk where the haw- 



thorn is showing 



A luminous whiteness of blossoming snow. 

 And the Sun ere he goes gives the Moon 



half his light, 



As a Lamp to lead Love on the bridal 

 Night. MATHILDE BLIND. 



A Bridal in the Bois de Boulogne. 



The wassailous heart of the Year is thine! 

 His Bacchic ringers disentwine 



His coronal 



At thy festival; 



[59] 



