The Wild Honey Suckle

The Wild Hoenysuckle--by Philip Morin Freneau

Fair flower, that dost so comely grow

Hid in this silent, dull retreat,

Untouched thy honied blossoms blow,

Unseen thy little branches greet

No roving foot shall crush thee here,

No busy hand provoke a tear

By Nature's self in white arrayed

She bade thee shun the vulgar eye

And planted here the guardian shade,

And sent soft waters murmuring by

Thus quietly thy summer goes

Thy days declining to repose

Smit with those charms, that must decay

I grieve to see your future doom;

They died—nor were those flowers more

The flowers that did in Eden bloom;

Unpitying frosts and Autumn's power Shall leave no vestige of this flower

From morning suns and evening dews

At first thy little being came

If nothing once, you nothing lose,

For when you die you are the same

The space between is but an hour,

The frail duration of flower.

嘤嘤嘤