I dreaded that first Robin, so,
But He is mastered, now,
I′m some accustomed to Him
grown,
He hurts a little, though –

I thought if I could only live
Till that first Shout got by –
Not all the Pianos in the Woods
Had power to mangle me –

I dared not meet the Daffodils –
For fear their Yellow Gown
Would pierce me with a fashion
So foreign to my own –

I wished the Grass would hurry –
So when ′twas time to see –
He′d be too tall, the tallest one
Could stretch to look at me –

 ¦

I could not bear the Bees
should come,
I wished they′d stay away
In those dim countries where
they go,
What word had they, for me?

They′re here, though; not a
creature failed –
No Blossom stayed away
In gentle deference to me –
The Queen of Calvary –

Each one salutes me, as he
goes,
And I, my childish Plumes,
Lift, in bereaved acknowledgment
Of their unthinking Drums –