Seven Times One. Exultation.

There's no dew left on the daisies and clover, There's no rain left in heaven; I've said my "seven times" over and over, Seven times one are seven. I am old, so old, I can write a letter; My birthday lessons are done; The lambs play always, they know no better; They are only one times one. O moon! in the night I have seen you sailing And shining so round and low; You were bright! ah, bright! but your light is failing,— You are nothing now but a bow. You moon, have you done something wrong in heaven That God has hidden your face? I hope if you have, you will soon be forgiven, And shine again in your place. O velvet bee, you're a dusty fellow, You've powdered your legs with gold! O brave marsh marybuds, rich and yellow, Give me your money to hold! O columbine, open your folded wrapper, Where two twin turtle-doves dwell? O cuckoopint, toll me the purple clapper That hangs in your clear green bell! And show me your nest with the young ones in it; I will not steal them away; I am old! you may trust me, linnet, linnet,— I am seven times one to-day.