Twas once I in Amherst
near the flowers bend
Til night, enclosed the fields
at an eternal end

Our abode did once hide thee
as was my best reflex
Upon the end of the day
to most dwellers must protest

Sweet scents of the foxglove
the poison of my day
Beauty betrothed to the grass
Brightens within the tines of May

Covering with the white delicate dress
No other color will do
Presents itself with glory stained
bringing my life to anew