University of Virginia Library

THE PIMPERNEL.

Little scarlet Pimpernel!
None but thou canst tell so well
What the weather change may be;
None can tell so well as thee
What the roving sun can see;
None so wisely half as thee;
When the welkin vapours shroud,
Telleth thee, the passing cloud,
When in east the pallid dawn
Heralds coming of the morn;—
Then with joy thou spreadest out
All thy little flowers about,
Where, in holt or upon wold,
Smiles thy little eye of gold.
When with clouds the heavens frown,
Then thy head thou bendest down.
Little weather-prophet, say,
Fair or foul, the coming day?
For thy eye, on sun above,
Dwells like lover on his love;
Like a courtier on his lord;
Or Parsee on his god adored;
Like kneeling Carib on the sun,
Thou gazest till his course is run—
Ever, ever gazing on,
Never musing but of one.
Come what seasons there may be,
Still unchanged thy flower we see,
Like a pennon in the wind,
Fickle as a maiden's mind,
Ever veereth round thy head,
Till in western waves of red,
Thy great monarch sinketh down,
Then, too, sinks thy tiny crown.
In thy humble flower we see
Type of fixed mobility.
Winds may blow as they blow now,
Still for winds what carest thou?
Though with fury raging free,
They should shake the giant tree,
Whatsoever be their power,
They will spare thy little flower;
E'en the bud that gems the sod,
Overshadowed is by God.
Little Persian; songs of praise
Do thy flowerets ever raise;
To thy God thou offerest up
Drops of dew in ruby cup;
And when sinks the king of light,
Thy violet eyes with tears grow bright,
Till the stars, whose softer beam,
Like the sun's fair children seem,
Shine upon the meadow-ground,
Where thy blossoms most abound;
Or, where trailing through the grass,
All thy snake-like sprays do pass.
Little scarlet Pimpernel!
None can tell us half so well
What the weather change may be—
None so wisely half as thee!