Sonnet To The Strawberry

THE Strawberry blooms upon its lowly bed,
Plant of my native soil!--the Lime may fling
More potent fragrance on the zephyr's wing,
  The milky Cocoa richer juices shed,
  The white Guava lovelier blossoms spread--
But not, like thee, to fond remembrance bring
The vanished hours of life's enchanting spring;
  Short calendar of joys for ever fled!
Thou bid'st the scenes of childhood rise to view,
  The wild wood-path which fancy loves to trace;
Where, veil'd in leaves, thy fruit of rosy hue
  Lurk'd on its pliant stem with modest grace.
But ah! when thought would later years renew,
  Alas, successive sorrows crowd the space!