Mountain--Laurel

My bonnie flower, with truest joy     Thy welcome face I see,     The world grows brighter to my eyes,     And summer comes with thee.     My solitude now finds a friend,     And after each hard day,     I in my mountain garden walk,     To rest, or sing, or pray.     All down the rocky slope is spread     Thy veil of rosy snow,     And in the valley by the brook,     Thy deeper blossoms grow.     The barren wilderness grows fair,     Such beauty dost thou give;     And human eyes and Nature's heart     Rejoice that thou dost live.     Each year I wait thy coming, dear,     Each year I love thee more,     For life grows hard, and much I need     Thy honey for my store.     So, like a hungry bee, I sip     Sweet lessons from thy cup,     And sitting at a flower's feet,     My soul learns to look up.     No laurels shall I ever win,     No splendid blossoms bear,     But gratefully receive and use     God's blessed sun and air;     And, blooming where my lot is cast,     Grow happy and content,     Making some barren spot more fair,     For a humble life well spent.