And find his way to me Under the branches of the tree : In and out, he darts about; Can this be the Bird, to man so good, That, after their bewildering, Did cover with leaves the little children, So painfully in the wood? What ailed thee, Robin, that thou could'st pursue A beautiful Creature, That is gentle by nature? Beneath the summer sky From flower to flower let him fly; The Cheerer Thou of our in-door sadness, X. TO THE DAISY*. WITH little here to do or see Of things that in the great world be, Thou unassuming Common-place Of Nature, with that homely face, Which Love makes for thee! Oft do I sit by thee at ease, And weave a web of similies, Loose types of Things through all degrees, Thoughts of thy raising: * The two following Poems were overflowings of the mind in composing the one which stands first in this Class. And many a fond and idle name A Nun demure, of lowly port; Or sprightly Maiden, of Love's Court, In thy simplicity the sport Of all temptations; A Queen in crown of rubies drest A Starveling in a scanty vest; Are all, as seem to suit thee best, A little Cyclops, with one eye Staring to threaten and defy, ; That thought comes next--and instantly The freak is over, The shape will vanish, and behold! That spreads itself, some Faery bold In fight to cover. I see thee glittering from afar;- Not quite so fair as many are Yet like a star, with glittering crest, May peace come never to his nest, Sweet Flower! for by that name at last, When all my reveries are past, I call thee, and to that cleave fast, Sweet silent Creature! That breath'st with me in sun and air, My heart with gladness, and a share Of thy meek nature! XL TO THE SAME FLOWER. BRIGHT flower, whose home is every where! A Pilgrim bold in Nature's care, And all the long year through the heir Of joy or sorrow, Methinks that there abides in thee Some concord with humanity, Given to no other Flower I see The forest thorough! Is it that Man is soon deprest? A thoughtless Thing! who, once unblest, Does little on his memory rest, Or on his reason, And Thou would'st teach him how to find A shelter under every wind, A hope for times that are unkind And every season? |