Oh, gold-green wings, and bronze-green wings,

And rose-tinged wings, that down the breeze

Come sailing from the maple-trees!

You showering things, you shimmering things,

That June-time always brings!

Oh, are you seeds that seek the earth,

The shade of lovely leaves to spread?

Or shining angels, that had birth

When kindly words were said?

Oh, downy dandelion-wings,