The pot of basil

by Bernard Capes

Ten thousand stars were caught.

“And there the moon with shining eyes

Her silken web prepared,

To catch the stars like fireflies,

And kiss them, being snared.

“O! sweet it was in woods and bowers,

And no fear to conceive;

But meal of honey gave the flowers

And dew the cups of eve.

“O! sweet it was. O! sweet it was.