Insect full of dulcet mirth!
Singing in the August moonlight,
Minstrel of the country hearth!
Sharded rhapsodist of Autumn,
When the year begins to wane,
In the grass and in the hedges
Trillest thou thy wiry strain.
Harp with clasps of ivory strengthened,
Unto thee does not belong;
Thine own body is a cithern,