And gnats are humming through the sedge,
And on the leaf of each wide lily
The scaly newts do lay their eggs
And the small people dip their legs
To shatter the moonshine floating stilly
O'er the pool's mystic weedy dregs!
Think yet again on rolling hills
Where little sleepy new-born rills
Are bedded deep in upland mosses,
Where tiny stars of tormentils