I can no moment recall, ere I knew
  Perfume pertain’d to those blossoms of blue;
  Had the first knowledge of sweetness like this
  Touch’d me to-day, what perfection of bliss! 
  Children with all that creation can grant
  Scarcely will miss the one pleasure I want,
  Just to remember the day and the hour
  When, by spring breezes caressingly blown,
  Delicate fragrance of violet flower
  First touch’d my senses, becoming my own!

  And what can it be—­oh, what can it be,
  That has garnish’d earth with a golden grace? 
  What is this something that entering me
  Changes my life in a minute of space?

  When I first notic’d the power in his eyes—­
  Watching to see if they praise or condemn,
  Blushing to meet them—­came into the skies
  Beauty that never has vanish’d from them.

  When I first stopp’d in the midst of my mirth,
  While my heart beat in a tremulous way
  Only to see him,—­came over the earth,
  Glory that earth has retain’d to this day.

  When the first whisper assaulted my ear,
  When the first pressure astonish’d my hand,
  When I first fancied that I might be dear—­
  Life was a miracle joyous and grand.

  When he first woo’d me with prayers, for his own,
  Suddenly came an eclipse of the light: 
  Sighing, I wish’d he would let me alone;
  Smiling, I long’d to hide out of his sight.

  Life being lit by a fairy-like gleam,
  Sparkling and glittering, tender and pure,
  Was not he stupid to change such a dream
  Into reality tame and secure?

  ’Tis sweet to find I am wrong in the thought,
  Joy is but brighter for being confess’d;
  Every moment has happiness brought,
  Every stage of true love is the best.

  They wish me at home to sit and to sew—­
  And I like to do what my aunt thinks right—­
  But the stitching never seem’d half so slow,
  Nor zigzagg’d itself as it did one night.

  And my work kept slipping out of my hand
  As wonderful thoughts came into my head: 
  Sure, life is becoming too bright and grand
  To be given up to needles and thread!

  I was thinking of words that Harry spake,
  And of looks that more than mere words betray,
  With a joy as pure as the first snow-flake,
  And almost as ready to melt away.

  And with little tears beginning to start,
  And with smiles and blushes that come and go;
  And I did not know what was in my heart,
  Or else I pretended I did not know!

  O sudden awaking from dream so fair! 
  ’Tis the voice of my aunt, and I hear it say—­
  ’Child, are you falling asleep in your chair? 
  Will you ever finish that collar, May?’

  I caught up my work (I knew I was wrong),
  Determin’d to finish it ere we sup;
  But something within me, for me too strong,
  Conquer’d myself, and I had to give up.