But yesterday:--
Adream, astray,
From morning's red to evening's gray,
O'er dales and hills
Of daffodils
And lorn sweet-fluting whippoorwills.
I knew nor cares
Nor tears nor prayers--
A mortal god, crowned unawares
With sunset--and
A scepter-wand
Of apple-blossoms in my hand!
The dewy blue
Of twilight grew
To purple, with a star or two
Whose lisping rays
Failed in the blaze
Of sudden fireflies through the haze.