(Lover's Ditty)

I think of the slope where the rabbits fed,
        Of the periwinks' rockwork lair,
Of the fuchsias ringing their bells of red -
        And the something else seen there.

Between the blooms where the sod basked bright,
        By the bobbing fuchsia trees,
Was another and yet more eyesome sight -
        The sight that richened these.

I shall seek those beauties in the spring,
        When the days are fit and fair,
But only as foils to the one more thing
        That also will flower there!