Love's Hybla
by John Banister Tabb
My thoughts fly to thee, as the bees
To find their favorite flower;
Then home, with honeyed memories
Of many a fragrant hour:
For with thee is the place apart
Where sunshine ever dwells,
The Hybla, whence my hoarding heart
Would fill its wintry cells.
Source:
PoemsCopyright 1894
John Lane, LondonCopeland and Day, Boston