Sydney Dobell

A Chanted Calendar

First came the primrose,

On the bank high,

Like a maiden looking forth

From the window of a tower

When the battle rolls below,

So looked she,

And saw the storms go by.

Then came the wind-flower

In the valley left behind,

As a wounded maiden, pale

With purple streaks of woe,

When the battle has rolled by

Wanders to and fro

So tottered she,

Dishevelled in the wind.

Then came the daisies,

On the first of May

Like a bannered show's advance

While the crowd runs by the way,

With ten thousand flowers about them they came trooping through the fields.

As a happy people come,

So came they,

As a happy people come

When the war has rolled away,

With dance and tabor, pipe and drum,

And all make holiday.

Then came the cowslip,

Like a dancer in the fair,

She spread her little mat of green,

And on it danced she.

With a fillet bound about her brow,

A fillet round her happy brow,

A golden fillet round her brow,

And rubies in her hair.