And let the hollyhocks see.
Is that the marigold’s laugh I hear,
Or the sound of her foot as ’t fell?
She is coming, my duck, my dear;
She is coming, my bird, my belle.
The blood-pink cries; “She is near, she is near,”
And the pale pink sobs: “Do tell!”
The snap-dragon says: “D’you see her? D’you see her?”
And the tulip, “Yes, there by the well!”
She is coming, my joy, my pet,