Page:The Romance of Nature; or, The Flower-Seasons Illustrated.djvu/293

187 Of forms that Flowers know and see

When they are dreaming, e'en as we

Merry Harebells do

On the heathery lea.

Maiden—do not you

Often wish you were a Flower,

Spending one or two

Merry days in greenwood bower,

As the Harebells do,

Dancing, and waving, and ringing in glee,

Over the moorland and over the lea?

Daintily bend we our honeyed bells

While the gossiping bee her story tells,

And drowsily hums and murmurs on

Of the wealth to her waxen storehouse gone,

And though she gathers our sweets the while,

We welcome her in with a nod and a smile.

Darting about

Now in, now out,

Aloft, adown, in angles, rings,

And every form of swiftest flight,

Like arrows, guided by glittering wings,

The dragon-flies play in the sunshine bright,

That tinges their forms of chamelion hue

With emerald, ruby, amber, and blue.