Page:The Romance of Nature; or, The Flower-Seasons Illustrated.djvu/320

198 There is romance in every stem that bends

In motion soft

Beneath the wind that rustles in the tall

Tree-tops aloft,

And mid their branches whistlingly doth blow,

While it but fans the flowers that sleep below.

We know they sleep; at eve the daisy small

Foldeth all up

Her blush-tipped rays; and the wave's empress hides

Her star-lit cup:

And each fair flower, though some with open eye,

Listens and yields to natures lullaby.

The nodding Foxglove slumbers on her stalk;

And fan-like ferns

Seem poised still and sleepily, until

The morn returns

With singing birds and beams of rosy light,

To bid them dance and frolic in delight.

The drowsy Poppy, who has all the day

Proudly outspread

His scarlet mantle, folds it closely now

Around his head;

And, lulled by soothing bairn that his own leaves distil,

Sleeps, while the night dews fall upon the moonlit hill.