The first soft green of a Northern spring

The first soft green of a Northern spring,
Lit by a golden sun:
That is the little frock you wore
When our love was begun,
In the house by the purple shore.

The gold-red flush of early fall,
And the tinge of sun on the sea:
That is the maiden vest you wore
When you came to my knee,
And the firelight danced on the floor.