The Stranger's Gift

I found far culled from fragrant field and groveEach flower that makes our Spring a welcome guest,In one sweet bond of brotherhood inwoveOn osier band their leafy stalks compressed;A stranger's hand had made their bloom my own,And fresh their fragrance rest on the air;His gift was mine—but he who gave unknown,And my heart sorrowed though the flowers were fair:Now oft I grieve to meet them on the lawn,Scattered along the path I love to go,By One who on their petals paints the dawn,And gilt with sunset splendors bids them glow,For I ne'er asked 'who steeps them in perfume?'Nor anxious sough His love who crowns them all with bloom.