 | Beads from a Rosary |  |
46
I am lying soft and low,
Where the light doth faintest shine
'Neath the o'er-arching bough;
In a moss-tuft I am hidden,
Yet not lost, I trow;
For the sunbeam, busy rover,
Piercing through my leafy cover,
Kisseth oft my brow;
And the wanton wind, unbidden,
Cometh, day by day,
Saucy elf! and while I sleep,
To my very heart doth creep,
And bear its sweets away.
But sister Lily, dost thou see
Cowslip, peeping o'er the lea?”
| Beads from a Rosary | |