Fr76A


Sexton! My Master′s sleeping here.

Pray lead me to his bed!

I came to build the Bird′s nest –

And sow the early seed –

 

That when the snow creeps slowly

From off his chamber door –

Daisies point the way there –

And the Troubadour.

The rainbow never tells me
That gust and storm are by –
Yet is she more convincing

Than Philosophy.

 

My flowers turn from Forums –
Yet eloquent declare
What Cato could′nt prove me
Except the birds were here!