BO-PEEP
Everywhere I ramble
In the ides of May,
Through the boughs and bramble
The wood-nymphs play.
Where the sunshine dapples
Shadows all a-creep
Beneath the budding apples,
Dances Bo-Peep.
Over where the mosses
Make a coverlet
Which the Spring embosses
With a green fret,
From the long hibernal
Dreaminess of sleep
Wakes with dimples vernal
Little Bo-Peep.
Violets and bluets
Mischievously peek;
Monks like pigmy druids
Play at hide-and-seek;
O’er each stump a picket
Spies with cunning deep,
And in every thicket
Beckons Bo-Peep.