Page:Poems by William Wordsworth (1815) Volume 1.djvu/304

244 While Birds, and Butterflies, and Flowers

Make all one Band of Paramours,

Thou, ranging up and down the bowers,

Art sole in thy employment;

A Life, a Presence like the Air,

Scattering thy gladness without care,

Too bless'd with any one to pair,

Thyself thy own enjoyment.

Upon yon tuft of hazel trees,

That twinkle to the gusty breeze,

Behold him perched in ecstasies,

Yet seeming still to hover;

There! where the flutter of his wings

Upon his back and body flings

Shadows and sunny glimmerings,

That cover him all over.

While thus before my eyes he gleams,

A Brother of the Leaves he seems;

When in a moment forth he teems

His little song in gushes:

As if it pleased him to disdain

And mock the Form which he did feign,

While he was dancing with the train

Of Leaves among the bushes.