FIRST came the primrose, <br />On the bank high, <br />Like a maiden looking forth <br />From the window of a tower <br />When the battle rolls below, <br />So look'd she, <br />And saw the storms go by. <br /> <br />Then came the wind-flower <br />In the valley left behind, <br />As a wounded maiden, pale <br />With purple streaks of woe, <br />When the battle has roll'd by <br />Wanders to and fro, <br />So totter'd she, <br />Dishevell'd in the wind. <br /> <br />Then came the daisies, <br />On the first of May, <br />Like a banner'd show's advance <br />While the crowd runs by the way, <br />With ten thousand flowers about them <br />they came trooping through the fields. <br /> <br />As a happy people come, <br />So came they, <br />As a happy people come <br />When the war has roll'd away, <br />With dance and tabor, pipe and drum, <br />And all make holiday. <br /> <br />Then came the cowslip, <br />Like a dancer in the fair, <br />She spread her little mat of green, <br />And on it danced she. <br />With a fillet bound about her brow, <br />A fillet round her happy brow, <br />A golden fillet round her brow, <br />And rubies in her hair.<br /><br />Sydney Thompson Dobell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-chanted-calendar/
