DAISIES. 
103 
When undisturbed the ringdoves cooed, 
While lovers sang each other’s praises, 
As in embower’d lanes they wooed, 
Or on some bank white o’er with Daisies ; 
While Love went by with muffled feet, 
Singing, “ The Daisies they are sweet.” 
Unfettered then he roamed abroad, 
And as he willed it past the hours,— 
Now lingering idly by the road, 
Now loitering by the wayside flowers ; 
For what cared he about the morrow ? 
Too young to sigh, too old to fear— 
No time had he to think of sorrow, 
Who found the Daisies everywhere, 
Still sang he, through each green retreat, 
“ The Daisies they are very sweet.” 
With many a maiden did he dally, 
Like a glad brook that turns away— 
Here in, there out, across the valley, 
With every pebble stops to play ; 
Taking no note of space nor time, 
Through flowers, the banks adorning, 
Still rolling on, with silver chime, 
In star-clad night and golden morning. 
So went Love on, through cold and heat, 
Singing, “ The Daisy’s ever sweet.” 
