TO MY PANSIES.
Pansies, your drooping, sleepy heads low bending
Beneath the gentle moon's transforming beams,
While myriad stars their varied ways are wending,
Tell me your dreams.
Beneath the gentle moon's transforming beams,
While myriad stars their varied ways are wending,
Tell me your dreams.
In deepest shades of yonder oak and willow
The breeze has rocked the baby-birds to sleep,
While o'er your lowly fringed and dewy pillow
Moonbeams and shadows creep.
The breeze has rocked the baby-birds to sleep,
While o'er your lowly fringed and dewy pillow
Moonbeams and shadows creep.
Have you no dreams, with your shy, tender faces
Turned from the silvery light,
While on your heads a thousand airy graces
Their forms unite?
Turned from the silvery light,
While on your heads a thousand airy graces
Their forms unite?
Do no weird fancies, steeped in thought and feeling,
That man with all his wisdom never guessed,
Come through the shadowy moonlight softly stealing
To charm your rest?
That man with all his wisdom never guessed,
Come through the shadowy moonlight softly stealing
To charm your rest?
Ah! willful pansies, I would guess their meaning
And steal some of their honeyed sweets away;
But keep your pretty secrets, pansy dreaming,
An elfin might betray.
And steal some of their honeyed sweets away;
But keep your pretty secrets, pansy dreaming,
An elfin might betray.
On yonder hills the blushing Bride of Morning
Scatters the mists beneath her sunny smile;
The few faint stars her cloudy robes adorning
Your eyes beguile.
Scatters the mists beneath her sunny smile;
The few faint stars her cloudy robes adorning
Your eyes beguile.
Awake, my pansies, choristers are singing,
On golden wings their artless notes are borne;
Lo! from your leafy buds in rapture springing
Ye greet the morn.
On golden wings their artless notes are borne;
Lo! from your leafy buds in rapture springing
Ye greet the morn.
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