Arbutus

Sweet arbutus, dainty flower,

Child of April's sun and shower,

    Far in a secluded dell,

    Hid from me who love thee well,

Sweet arbutus, dainty flower!

Thou art like my lady fair;

Like her breath thy perfumes rare,

    And thy blossoms' pure pink tips,

    Counterfeit her coral lips.

Thou art like my lady fair.

Bertrand A. Smalley

Index to poems in the collection by Bertrand A. Smalley