XXVI.
I am pale as crocus grows Close beside a rose-tree's root; Whosoe'er would reach the rose, Treads the crocus underfoot. _I_, like May-bloom on thorn-tree, Thou, like merry summer-bee,-- Fit that I be plucked for thee!
I am pale as crocus grows Close beside a rose-tree's root; Whosoe'er would reach the rose, Treads the crocus underfoot. _I_, like May-bloom on thorn-tree, Thou, like merry summer-bee,-- Fit that I be plucked for thee!