Daffodils – Day 7

 

Daffodils – Day 7

All the daffodils are now open and soon their fragile beauty will begin to fade.

The poem, Daffodils, was written by Charles A. Heath, known as the nature poet. about whom I can find little information.

And now here come the daffodils,

The trumpeters of spring,

All tooting joy, which thrills and thrills,

The while again they bring

Their happiest note attuned with cheer

To tell that spring is truly here. 

 

 I am always glad when daffodils

Lift up their golden horn,

To wake a day whose waking fills

With mellowness the morn,

And lures the southwinds thru the air

To bear away my winter’s care.

 

I always thought the daffodils

Which rise from frigid earth

Were heroines with hearts and wills

To understand the worth

Of holding hope thru days severe,

And burst with joy when spring is here.

 

So blow your best, dear daffodils,

I will listen full and long,

To every note which ever thrills

With your returning song;

And when at night I rest my head,

I will dream sweet dreams thus comforted.

How long will they continue to lend their brightness, how soon before they droop and die? It would be too sad to document their demise and so I bring this journey to an end.

One final poem, this one by Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

Perhaps you’d like to buy a flower?

 

Perhaps you’d like to buy a flower?

But I could never sell.

If you would like to borrow

Until the daffodil

 

Unties her yellow bonnet

Beneath the village door,

Until the bees, from clover rows

Their hock and sherry draw,

 

Why, I will lend until just then,

But not an hour more!

I hope those of you awaiting your own daffodils will soon be rewarded for your patience. My garden daffodils have not yet bloomed but I found a violet a few days ago! April already?