I ran into the garden, for the sky
Was like a freshly-tinted muslin gown
Which makes the choir-boys gape, the parson frown,
His daughters, envying, look on and sigh.
I ran into the garden, for the sun
Summoned the daisies in their new-washed frills,
Summoned the cowslips and the daffodils
To gay Spring’s festival, each one by one.
I watched the blossoms with the dew in pearls,
The Spring puffed flippancies into my mind