And drowsy winds are laden with perfume;
In village street, in grove and sheltered glen
The happy warblers set the air atune.
Each swaying motion of the bud-sweet trees
Scatters pale, fragrant petals everywhere;
Reveals the tempting nectar cups to bees
That gild their thighs with pollen. Here and there
The cunning spoilers roam, and dream and sip
The honey-dew from chalices of gold;
The brimming cups are drained from lip to lip