WILD FLOWERS. 39 
So keeping Dp an interchange of favors, 
Like good men in the truth of their behaviors. 
Sometimes goldfinches one by one will drop 
From low-hung branches: little space they stop; 
But sip, and twitter, and their feathers sleek; 
Then off at once, as in a wanton freak: 
Or perhaps, to show their black and golden wings, 
Pausing upon their yellow flutterings. 
Were I in such a place, I sure should pray 
That naught less sweet might call my thoughts 
away, 
Than the soft rustle of a maiden’s gown 
Fanning away the dandelion’s down: 
Than the light music of her nimble toes 
Patting against the sorrel as she goes. 
How she would start, and blush, thus to be caught 
Playing in all her innocence of thought! 
O let me lead her gently o’er the brook, 
Watch her half-smiling lips and downward look; 
O let me for one moment touch her wrist; 
Let me one moment to her breathing list; 
And as she leaves me may she often turn 
Her fair eyes looking through her locks auburn. 
