The snow-drop, and then the violet, Arose from the ground with warm rain wet; Then the pied wind-flowers, and the tulip tall, And narcissi, the fairest among them allWho gaze on their eyes in the stream's recess, Till they die of their own dear loveliness! And the naiad-like lily of the vale, And the hyacinth, purple, and white, and blue, Which flung from its bells a sweet peal anew Of music so delicate, soft, and intense, It was felt like an odour within the sense; And the rose like a nymph to the bath addrest, And the wand-like lily, which lifted up, Gazed through clear dew on the tender sky; And the jessamine faint, and the sweet tuberose, And on the stream whose inconstant bosom Was prankt, under boughs of embowering blos som, With golden and green light, and starting through Their heaven of many a tangled hue, Broad water-lilies lay tremulously, And around them the soft stream did glide and dance With a motion of sweet sound and radiance. And the sinuous paths of lawn and moss, Were all paved with daisies and delicate bells And from this undefiled paradise The flowers (as an infant's awakening eyes Smile on its mother, whose singing sweet When heaven's blithe winds had unfolded them For each one was interpenetrated With the light and the odour its neighbour shed, Like young lovers whom youth and love make dear, Wrapp'd and fill'd by their mutual atmosphere. But the sensitive plant, which could give small fruit Of the love which it felt from the leaf to the root, Received more than all, it loved more than ever, Where none wanted but it, could belong to the giver. For the sensitive plant has no bright flower; It loves, even like Love; its deep heart is full; The light winds, which from unsustaining wings, The plumed insects swift and free, The unseen clouds of the dew, which lie The quivering vapours of dim noon-tide, Each and all like ministering angels were And when evening descended from heaven above, And the earth was all rest, and the air was all love, And delight, though less bright, was far more deep, And the day's veil fell from the world of sleep; And the beasts and the birds, and the insects were drown'd In an ocean of dreams without a sound; Whose waves never mark, though they ever impress The light sand which paves it, consciousness; (Only overhead the sweet nightingale Ever sang more sweet as the day might fail, And snatches of its Elysian chant Were mix'd with the dreams of the sensitive plant ;) The sensitive plant was the earliest PART II. There was a power in this sweet place, Which to the flowers, did they waken or dream, A lady, the wonder of her kind, 'Whose form was upborne by a lovely mind, 'Which, dilating, had moulded her mien and mo tion ike a sea-flower unfolded beneath the ocean, |