Maxioms by Helen Hunt Jackson (helen Hunt)
When the baby dies,
On every side
Rose stranger's voices, hard and harsh and loud.
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When the baby dies,
On every side
Rose stranger's voices, hard and harsh and loud.
The baby was not wrapped in any shroud.
The mother made no sound. Her head was bowed
That men's eyes might not see
Her misery.
Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame;
Each to his passion; what's in a name?
Bee to the blossom, moth to the flame;
Each to his passion; what's in a name?
On the king's gate the moss grew gray;
The king came not. They call'd him dead;
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On the king's gate the moss grew gray;
The king came not. They call'd him dead;
And made his eldest son, one day,
Slave in his father's stead.
O month when they who love must love and wed.
O month when they who love must love and wed.
O May, sweet-voice one, going thus before,
Forever June may pour her warm red wine
Of life read more
O May, sweet-voice one, going thus before,
Forever June may pour her warm red wine
Of life and passions,--sweeter days are thine!
