Page:Beachy Head and Other Poems.pdf/123

Rh

And thou "Wee crimson tipped flower," Gatherest thy fringed mantle round Thy bosom, at the closing hour, When night drops bathe the turfy ground.

Unlike Silene, who declines The garish noontide's blazing light; But when the evening crescent shines Gives all her sweetness to the night.

Thus in each flower and simple bell, That in our path untrodden lie, Are sweet remembrancers who tell How fast the winged moments fly.