Come, gather the crocus-cups with me,
And dream of the summer coming:
Saffron and purple and snowy white,
All awake to the first bees humming.
The white is there for the maiden-heart,
And the purple is there for sorrow:
The saffron is there for the true true love,
And they’ll all be dead to-morrow.
From: Evans, Sebastian, Brother Fabian’s Manuscript; and Other Poems, 1865, MacMillan and Co: London and Cambridge, p. 196.
(https://archive.org/details/brotherfabiansma00evan/)
Date: 1865
By: Sebastian Evans (1830-1909)