Bluebell
F. Price
Bluebell, bluebell, tinkling sweet,
As of yore my senses greet;
In thy music lies a spell,
Tinkle softly, fair bluebell.
Thou and I art here alone,
Strike again that far-off tone,
Which seems to come from faded years,
Long buried 'neath a weight of tears.
Magic bluebell, ah, that chime,
Silvery, careless, pure, sublime!
Ne'er again I thought to be,
Enchanted by such minstrelsy.
Days of toil have sung their song,
Selfish monotones of wrong;
Discordant pain hath tuned her lyre,
Oft, seated by my midnight fire.
Bluebell, bluebell, ring again,
Soft and clear that peaceful strain;
Slowly-let me catch each tone;
O'er the woodland thou hast thrown
Voiceless rhythmics, soundless song,
Which echo through the dells along,
Where she and I in childhood's hours,
Searched for thee in hidden bowers.
Bluebell, hast thou quite forgot
How-'t was on this very spot,
She smiled and whispered, "Bluebell, ring,
Chimes in honor of my king."
"Hark" she said, "it answers me,
The air is full of melody."
Bluebell, ring again that chime,
Silvery, careless, pure, sublime!
Bluebell, say, I never knew,
Was she false or was she true?
Something came our lives between,
Something vanished like a dream;
Love's broken harp lies yet unstrung,
That chime began is yet unrung;
Bluebell, can'st thou bridge the years,
Long buried 'neath the weight of tears –
And strike again the severed chord,
Whose silence all my life has marred?
And if she heard would she delay
To meet me in the dell today?
Was I her king? I never knew,
Bluebell, was she false or true?
If true, then gently let me hear,
That long-lost love note, sweet and clear!
Ah, bluebell, thou answerest me,
The air is full of melody!
Chimes of joy pervade the dell,
Dost thou mock me, fair bluebell?
What witchery is this? She's here,
Whispering sweetly in my ear:
"Thou hast ever been my king."
Wedding chimes, O bluebell, ring!