Granny. Hush!
[Enter Birds. Eight blue birds, six red birds, six yellow birds. Each carries a cluster or wreath or basket of pink laurel.]
Granny. Go back, little birds, and find Flora, your Queen.
[They rush off and return dragging a large chair draped with green cloth. Then they scamper out again. Granny blows a toy whistle. The door opens, and enter Alice, beautifully dressed in white, a wreath of roses on her head, a small wand tipped with a rose in her hand. On each side of her a blue bird walks. Behind, in pairs, all the others march. They go once around the room, and escort Alice to her throne. Granny rises and makes a low bow.]
"HAIL, FLORA, QUEEN OF SUMMER!"
Granny. Hail, Flora, Queen of Summer!
Hail, Flora, Queen off Summer! all Nature speaks your praises;
She spells them in her violets, and twines them with her daisies.
For you the lances lift of countless gallant grasses!
To you all fragrant odors drift, where'er your footstep passes.
Come make your subjects glad, these loyal hearts that love you!
Nor let a single-thought be sad, while bright the skies above you.
Granny. And now, my birds, have you not an offering for your Queen?
[The birds march gayly around the room: as they pass Flora, each set pauses.]