The daisy follows soft the sun,
  And when his golden walk is done,
  Sits shyly at his feet.
He, walking, finds the flower near.
"Wherefore, marauder, art thou here ?
  "Because, sir, love is sweet !"

We are the flower, Thou the sun !
Forgive us, if as days decline,
  We nearer steal to Thee, —
Enamoured of the parting west,
The peace, the flight, the amethyst,
  Night's possibility !