Amid the hum of summer bees,
And wind's soft laughter in the trees,
And distant murmur of the seas,
Oh, English child, thy blue eyes woke
In that lone Isle of Roanoke,
Round which white blooms of surges broke.
And birds sang through the golden air,
Green vines hung out their banners fair,
To welcome thee, Virginia Dare.
Oh, sweet babe on thy mother's knees,
While round thee flashed the birds and bees,
Why looked her sad eyes to the seas?
Ah, never on that far blue line,
Her hungry gaze would catch the sign—
Would see the sails like white mists shine.
But when she marked the glimmering spray,
Its fringes round the green coast lay,
She thought of hawthorn blooms in May.
And round that coast the birds' song flowed,
The oriflammes of sunset glowed,
Yet there no fleet at anchor rode.
It came at last—the English tongue
Through Roanoke's green arches rung,
And birds and bees for answer sung.
No human passion, love or prayer,
Have ever laid thy secret bare;
God only knows Virginia Dare!
