"Wake, robin! Wake, robin!" the trilliums call, Though never a word they say; "Wake, robin! Wake, robin!" while bud-sheaths fall, And violets greet the day. The soft winds bring the spring again, The days of snow are done ; The stir of life's in every vein, And warmly shines the sun. The trillium stars are white as milk, They beckon as they swing ; The trillium's leaves are soft as silk, They make the robins sing. Soon all the hill and all the dale Shall once again be gay ; When trilliums from the tree-set vale Open their cups to-day. "Wake, robin! Wake, robin!" the trilliums cry, Though never a sound they make ; "Wake, robin! Wake, robin!" till wings whir by, And robins sing for their sake.
Flower Songs
by Arthur Foote (1853 - 1937)
1. The Trilliums  [sung text not yet checked]
Authorship:
- by Arlo Bates (1850 - 1918), "The Trilliums", appears in The Poet and His Self, in A Flower Cycle, no. 2, first published 1892
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]3. The Foxglove  [sung text checked 1 time]
In grandmamma's garden in shining rows,
The box smells sweet as it trimly grows ;
The sun-dial quaint the hours tells,
'Mid foxgloves tall with spotted bells ;
And all is dear, and all is fair,
As childhood's self had dwelling there.
In grandmamma's garden a child I played
With naught save bees to make afraid ;
I counted the spots on the foxglove's cheek,
And knew it could tell, if it [would but]1 speak,
[How cunning fairies painted them
And made each like a shining gem.]2
In grandmamma's garden the foxgloves gay
With every wind would nod and sway ;
Full well I knew that they were wise,
And watched with childhood's eager eyes
To see them whisper each to each,
And catch the secrets of their speech.
[ ... ]
Authorship:
- by Arlo Bates (1850 - 1918), "The Foxglove", appears in The Poet and His Self, in A Flower Cycle, no. 6, first published 1892
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View original text (without footnotes)1 Foote: "could"
2 Foote: "How cunning fairies in the night/ had painted each by faint starlight."
Research team for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator] , Johann Winkler
3. The Crocus  [sung text not yet checked]
Brave crocus, out of time and rash, You come when skies are all amort and chill ; Too soon to find how cruel hail can dash, And bitter winds can kill. You are like early loves, most sure, Which die so soon in this world's nipping air ; Your mission like to theirs, not to endure, But to make springtime fair.
Authorship:
- by Arlo Bates (1850 - 1918), "The Crocus", appears in The Poet and His Self, in A Flower Cycle, no. 1, first published 1892
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]4. The Meadow Rue  [sung text not yet checked]
The tall white rue stands like a ghost That sighs for days departed, Ere life's woes gathered like a host And sorrow's tears had started. And 't is, oh, to be a child again Where meadow brooks are playing, Where the long grass nods with sound like rain To south wind through it straying ! Oh, the rue grows tall and fair to see ; Sweet "herb of grace" and memory. The white rue trembles as it stands, As if some spirit seeing, As if it yearned toward unseen hands Some loved one near, but fleeing. And 't is, oh, to taste lost youth once more, When well-loved lips were meeting ; When the heart was light that now is sore. Nor dreamed love's bliss is fleeting. Oh, the rue grows tall and fair to see ; Sweet "herb of grace" and memory.
Authorship:
- by Arlo Bates (1850 - 1918), "The Meadow Rue", appears in The Poet and His Self, in A Flower Cycle, no. 9, first published 1892
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]5. The Columbine  [sung text not yet checked]
Gay in her red gown, trim and fine, Dances the merry columbine. Never she thinks if her petals shall fall ; Cold rains beating she does not dread ; Sunshine is round her and spring birds call, Blue are the skies above her head. So in her red gown, trim and fine, Merrily dances the columbine. Blithe with her white throat, smooth and fine, Dances the careless columbine. If she coquets with the wandering bee, When he goes does she toss her head ; Heart-whole and frolicsome still is she, Lovers enough she finds instead. So with her white throat smooth and fine. Carelessly dances the columbine. Bright in her coronet, golden and fine, Dances the mocking columbine. Gay is she still, whatsoever befall, Loveless wanton, on pleasure bent ; Now is her moment, her day, her all ; Where will she be when it is spent? Then will be dust all her coronet fine ; Dust, only dust, mocking columbine.
Authorship:
- by Arlo Bates (1850 - 1918), "The Columbine", appears in The Poet and His Self, in A Flower Cycle, no. 5, first published 1892
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]6. The Cardinal Flower  [sung text not yet checked]
When days are long and steeped in sun The brown brooks loiter as they run, And lingering eddy as they flow Full loth to leave the meadows low ; For then the cardinal, ablaze With splendid fires, their fancy stays. Like a tall Indian maiden, dressed In scarlet robes, with tranquil breast That ne'er has known love's humbling thrall But haughty queens it over all, The flower her image mirrored throws, While proud as beautiful she glows. She sees the speckled trout dart by, And swift- winged flit the dragon-fly Over the brook's smooth waters dun ; Naught doth she heed them, all or one ; Even the sun-god when he woos With proud indifference she views. The saucy swallow darts athwart The topaz brook, but wins him naught Of notice from the haughty queen. Wrapped in her beauteous self, serene She dwells alone, untouched by praise, Through the brief splendor of her days.
Authorship:
- by Arlo Bates (1850 - 1918), "The Cardinal Flower", appears in The Poet and His Self, in A Flower Cycle, no. 7, first published 1892
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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]