Thou hast thy wish; ail love to see 
Thy simple bloom, Mezereon tree! 
The thrush his sweetest minstrelsy 
Is pou ring forth to welcome thee ; 
Thy store of sweets; the early bee 
Hath sought with ready industry ; 
And, prizing much thy beauty, we 
Are corne to greet thee joyously. 
Long shalt thou hold thy gentle sway; 
For when thy wreaths must fade away 
Beneath the Summer’s scorching ray, 
Thy stems shall glow in vesture gay 
With scarlet berries, rich array. 
Please then, fair plant, through manv a day, 
Till winter stern thy doom shall say, 
Whose voice, the fairest must obey. 
E 
