And drank from its milky bud;
One opened the vein of a rose leaf,
And licked up the crimson blood.
To a poppy-bed still one hurried,
On a downy cot he crept,
But all-day in the silken blankets,
Unconscious there he slept.
Another flew off to the meadow,
And punctured the daisy’s cap;
A swarm had encompassed a fountain,