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Edith Nesbit - The Charm
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LIKE crimson lamps the tulips swing, 
The lily flowers their incense bring, 
The daisies votive garlands fling 
Before the altar of the Spring. 


And you and I in this green May, 
When thrushes sing, and white lambs play, 
Go glad at heart--so glad and gay, 
No word seems good enough to say. 


Yet there`s a charm, it would appear, 
Which, if I spoke it in your ear, 
Would fix the spring for ever here; 
Pass on--I will not speak it, dear.
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