Ah, Zephyrus ! art here, and Flora too ! 



Ye tender bibbers of the rain and dew. 



Young playmates of the rose and daffodil, 



Be careful, ere ye enter in, to fill 



Your baskets high 



With fennel green, and balm, and golden pines, 



Savory, latter -mint, and columbines, 



Cool parsley, basil sweet, and sunny thyme ; 



Yea, every flower and leaf of every clime. 



All gather'd in the dewy mom : hie 



Away! fly, fly! 



— Keats, '* Endymion ** 





