The Columbine – Jones Very

Columbine (Aquilegia Vulgaris) Still, still my eye will gaze long fixed on thee,Till I forget that I am called a man,And at thy side fast-rooted seem to be,And the breeze comes my cheek with thine to fan.Upon this craggy hill our life shall pass,A life of summer days and summer joys,Nodding our honey-bells mid pliant grassIn which the bee half hid his time employs;And here we'll drink with thirsty pores the rain,And turn dew-sprinkled to the rising sun,And look when in the flaming west againHis orb across the heaven its path has run; Here left in darkness on the rocky steep, My weary eyes shall close like folding flowers in sleep. by Jones Very (1813-1880) P.S. In the picture (from my garden), the colour of the flowers looks a bit strange – probably because it was very sunny. In reality they look more purple.