76 DAISY. 



As is the liumour of the game, 

 While I am gazing. 



A Nun demure, of lowly port; 



Or sprightly Maiden, of Love's Court, 



In thy simplicity the sport 



Of all temptations ; 

 A Queen in crown of rubies drest ; 

 A Starveling in a scanty vest ; 

 Are all, as seems to suit thee best, 



Thy appellations. 



A little Cyclops, with one eye 



Staring to threaten and defy. 



That thought comes next — and instantly 



The freak is over. 

 The shape will vanish, and behold 

 A silver Shield with boss of gold, 

 That spreads itself, some Faery bold 



In fight to cover! 



I see thee glittering from afar; — 

 And then thou art a pretty Star; 

 Not quite so fair as many are 



In heaven above thee ! 

 Yet like a star, with glittering crest, 

 Self-poised in air thou seem'st to rest; — 

 May peace come never to his nest, 



Who shall reprove thee ! 



