TO ONE WITH A SPRING NOSEGAY by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT

SEE, Silvia, here I send you these Spring flowers,
Though Summer's come already and full June.
The year is late, like this new love of ours,
And all the sweeter that it came less soon.
In the oak-woods I gathered them at noon,
And heard the thrushes sing without a stop.
The sturdy cuckoo had not changed his tune,
But told his old wild loves still full of hope.
Here bluebells you will find and margarets,
And clovers pink and periwinkles blue,
And royal broom of lost Plantagenets,
And lilac sprays, your own, and all for you.
Yes, all for you, and with them this poor song,
From a true heart their greenest leaves among.

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