Baby’s Age
She came with April blooms and showers;We count her little life by flowers.As buds the rose upon her cheek,We choose a flower for every week.A week of hyacinths, we say,And one of heart’s-ease, ushered May;And then because two wishes metUpon the rose and violet—I liked the Beauty, Kate, the Nun—The violet and the rose count one.A week the apple marked with white;A week the lily scored in light;Red poppies closed May’s happy moon,And tulips this blue week in June.Here end as yet the flowery links;To-day begins the week of pinks;But soon—so grave, and deep, and wiseThe meaning grows in Baby’s eyes,So VERY deep for Baby’s age—We think to date a week with sage!