THE DAISY OP THE DALE. 
87 
the sun had climbed above the summit of the 
distant hill, while only the skylark beat the blue 
and vaulted dome of heaven, and with her song 
wakened the sleeping landscape, had Love wandered 
forth alone, to watch the Daisies unfold ; and so 
deeply was he enamoured of their innocence, he all 
day long had often sat upon the sloping hill-side, 
that he might behold them wave to and fro,— now 
turning their golden bosses towards the sun, then 
bending forward and showing the green cup from 
which sprang each pink and pearly rim, that starred 
them round like a halo of light. Until the grey 
twilight would he linger there and watch the buds 
fold themselves up for the night until they looked 
like rounded pearls, each placed apart, and when 
the pale white moon rose up above the dark line 
of trees that crowned the hill, he would watch the 
flooded light break over the scene, and breathe a 
blessing on the lovely flowers while they slept. 
Oh, Love ! why didst thou not linger behind to 
see that gay cavalcade pass 1 for there was a form 
which thou mightest have mistaken, liadst thou not 
known her, for Diana the huntress of the woods ; 
for never did the morning, as it looks down upon 
the thousands of beautiful eyes which open beneath 
it, light up two such floating orbs of love, as those 
Avhich glittered beneath that swan-white brow, and 
swam under the nut-brown ringlets of the Daisy 
