Gathered Flowers
E.B. Hildick
Published by Arthur H. Stockwell, Ltd.
29, Ludgate Hill, E.C.4
(British Museum date October 1938)
Night and morning

What time the star of eve rides high
Upon a deep empurpling sky,
My Dorcas lays her down to rest
Within her fragrant downy nest.
Oh that I might her pillow be,
Her dainty head to rest on me:
Oh, die
That I
Should wring my hands and sit and sigh,
And never try to win her by
Some proof of my affection.
Sweet Dorcus wakes at break of day,
Ere the sun has chassed the moon away.
At flower-decked window greets the lark,
She hears her day’s most joyous bark.
Oh that I might aspire to be
That happy lark so gray and free,
Soaring high
Toward the sky
And great my love on her window seat
To serenade with songs so sweet,
In loving adoration!

Oh a high white moon
On a day in June
I sought my lady fair.
I sang a song, for my heart was gay.
There were many sign-posts on the way
To tell me she was there.
As I sought Romance that day in June
While birds sang out a merry tune,
I found it when my feet did stray.
By petals from a rose-garden strewn
By the way.
By the perfume of the roses
And the fragrance of the May.
The scent of the roses was everywhere,
So I knew I should find her there.
I was sure that she had gone that way,
I soon would trace her on that day.
By petals from a rose-garden strewn
By the way.
And when I found my lady sweet,
Seated upon a rustic seat,
She raised her eyes in feigned surprise.
As blue were they as summer skies,
Her face it was surpassing fair,
Framed in clusters of soft brown hair.
She asked me how I found her there.
I said I had sought her everywhere,
In wood, in dell and moor and glen:
I was feeling so hopeless, but just then
By lucky chance my steps did stray
On petals from a rose-garden strewn
By the way.
The Garden I Have

Grandmamma’s Garden is all drenched with
The sun has just risen, there’s just me
And you,
There’s a haxe on the lawn like a gossamer
It’s so good to be here, I want to laugh loud.
The birds are awake, their songs fill
The air
Their melody’s sweet as a morning prayer.
And the scent of the roses, the lilac and
Come to be on the breezes which blow
Softly over.
From dewy bright morning to tender June
I spend precious hours of content
And delight.
There’s a velvety lawn where the
Trees cast a shade,
And there grandma sits with a small
Laughing maid.

There is no one in the house to-night
But the little cat and I.
Fire-light plays upon the walls
And the kettle’s singing high.
It’s peaceful in the house to-night;
I give a happy sigh.
The little cat purrs on my knee;
Outside the wind blows high.
As I set and dream of the long ago
Those days for which I long,
From a house nearby I hear a voice
Singing and old sweet song.
Oh, the past was good in those old days
And the present seems all pain.
But as I dream in the quiet house
I live in those days again.

The world’s a very lovely place to-night;
The snow has come and dressed it all in white.
The tiny chalets with their lights agleam,
And guardian fir-trees make a magic scene.
Cool, clear as crystal is the mountain air,
And velvet dusk, like tender fingers fair
Soothes us while resting from life’s
Noisy jars,
Remote as mountain peaks amidst the stars.
From quiet lofty heights the snowflakes seem
So hushed that soon we fall asleep and dream,
Until at dawn a pale sun bids us rise
Go watch her flush with rose
The winter’s skies.