 | Narcissus and Other Poems |  |
137
THE DAISY.
If the daisy shake her tresses
To the broad blue arch of sky,
As a child that dimly guesses
All the love in its mother's eye;
To the broad blue arch of sky,
As a child that dimly guesses
All the love in its mother's eye;
If she clasp each lily finger
At the falling of the night,
Lest the pure stars—an she linger—
Seem to shame her golden light;
At the falling of the night,
Lest the pure stars—an she linger—
Seem to shame her golden light;
If she dance with many a sister
In the hot shafts of the sun,
Swaying, swimming, in bright glister
Where a thousand are as one;
In the hot shafts of the sun,
Swaying, swimming, in bright glister
Where a thousand are as one;
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If she reach out arms to beckon
Diamond motes from dancing air:
What is that, that it should quicken
Pulses worn with toil and care?
Diamond motes from dancing air:
What is that, that it should quicken
Pulses worn with toil and care?
If she wreathe the mountains round her,
Centred in the grassy earth,
Where the first sun-glances found her
Shaking dewy locks of mirth;
Centred in the grassy earth,
Where the first sun-glances found her
Shaking dewy locks of mirth;
If the waters flow beside her,
Catching something from her smile,
Whether storm or sun betide her,
Loving to be near, the while;
Catching something from her smile,
Whether storm or sun betide her,
Loving to be near, the while;
What is that, that it should win us
To heart-yearnings still untold,
Year on year that grow within us,
Till the years themselves grow old?
To heart-yearnings still untold,
Year on year that grow within us,
Till the years themselves grow old?
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