The Spike: or, Victoria College Review, 1939
Now spring is come to decorate your dress,
My poem's but to whisper in your hair
And who shall say the verse is valueless,
Now spring is come to decorate your dress?
What's music but to praise your loveliness?
And what are flowers but for you to wear.
Now spring is come, to decorate your dress?
—My poems, but to whisper in your hair?