The Song in the Dell

i know a way Of hearing what the larks and linnets say: The larks tell of the sunshine and the sky; The linnets from the hedges make reply, And boast of hidden nests with mocking lay. I know a way Of keeping near the rabbits at their play: They tell me of the cool and shady nooks Where waterfalls disturb the placid brooks That I may go and frolic in the spray. I know a way Of catching dewdrops on a night in May, And threading them upon a spear of green, That through their sides translucent may be seen The sparkling hue that emeralds display. I know a way Of trapping sunbeams as they nimbly play At hide-and-seek with meadow-grass and flowers, And holding them in store for dreary hours When winds are chill and all the sky is gray. I know a way Of stealing fragrance from the new-mown hay And storing it in flasks of petals made, To scent the air when all the flowers fade And leave the woodland world to sad decay. I know a way Of coaxing snowflakes in their flight to stay So still awhile, that, as they hang in air, I weave them into frosty lace, to wear About my head upon a sultry day.