 | Rhymes of our planet |  |
72
A SONG OF THE DAISY
O would that I were yonder thrush,
'Mid forest branches swinging,
While every dewy leaf would hush,
And listen to my singing!
Or would I were an eagle high,
That cleaves the distance hazy;
'Tis not for me, alas! for I
Am nothing but a daisy—
Though throned upon a jaunty stem,
And clasping tight a golden gem,
With star of silver crowning them.
'Mid forest branches swinging,
While every dewy leaf would hush,
And listen to my singing!
Or would I were an eagle high,
That cleaves the distance hazy;
'Tis not for me, alas! for I
Am nothing but a daisy—
Though throned upon a jaunty stem,
And clasping tight a golden gem,
With star of silver crowning them.
And would that I were yonder oak,
With vines about me clinging,
Or with the storm's undreaded stroke,
My arms in triumph flinging;
Or basking in a cloudless sky,
'Mid dreams divinely lazy;
Oh that would be a life! but I
Am nothing but a daisy—
The humblest of the flowers, alas!
A spectre white amid the grass,
That trembles when a foot may pass.
With vines about me clinging,
Or with the storm's undreaded stroke,
My arms in triumph flinging;
75
'Mid dreams divinely lazy;
Oh that would be a life! but I
Am nothing but a daisy—
The humblest of the flowers, alas!
A spectre white amid the grass,
That trembles when a foot may pass.
And would that I were yonder maid,
Whose fairy feet were bringing
A thrilling form adown the glade,
That with her laugh is ringing!
And look! for now she wanders nigh
Along the woodland mazy;
She takes me to herself! though I
Am nothing but a daisy—
A child of nature, void of art,
I play at last an envied part:
This beauty clasps me to her heart!
Whose fairy feet were bringing
A thrilling form adown the glade,
That with her laugh is ringing!
And look! for now she wanders nigh
Along the woodland mazy;
She takes me to herself! though I
Am nothing but a daisy—
A child of nature, void of art,
I play at last an envied part:
This beauty clasps me to her heart!
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