Garden Gossip

Thin, chisel-fine a cricket chipped The crystal silence into sound; And where the branches dreamed and dripped A grasshopper its dagger stripped And on the humming darkness ground. A bat, against the gibbous moon, Danced, implike, with its lone delight; The glowworm scrawled a golden rune Upon the dark; and, emerald-strewn, The firefly hung with lamps the night. The flowers said their beads in prayer, Dew-syllables of sighed perfume; Or talked of two, soft-standing there, One like a gladiole, straight and fair, And one like some rich poppy-bloom. The mignonette and feverfew Laid their pale brows together:—"See!" One whispered: "Did their step thrill through Your roots?"—"Like rain."—"I touched the two And a new bud was born in me." One rose said to another:—"Whose Is this dim music? song, that parts My crimson petals like the dews?" "My blossom trembles with sweet news— It is the love of two young hearts."