The dewdrops hang on the bending grass,
A dragon-fly cuts a sunbeam through.
The moaning cypress trees lift somber arms
Up to skies of cloudless blue.
A humming-bird sips from a golden cup,
In the hedge a hidden bird sings,
And a butterfly among the flowers
Tells me that the soul has wings.
GRACE HIBBARD,
in Wild Roses of California.
