A Lady red—amid the Hill

A Lady red — amid the Hill Her annual secret keeps! A Lady white, within the Field In placid Lily sleeps!

The tidy Breezes, with their Brooms — Sweep vale — and hill — and tree! Prithee, My pretty Housewives! Who may expected be?

The Neighbors do not yet suspect! The Woods exchange a smile! Orchard, and Buttercup, and Bird — In such a little while!

And yet, how still the Landscape stands! How nonchalant the Hedge! As if the "Resurrection" Were nothing very strange!