Rose Fyleman

1877_1957 / Nottingham

Summer Morning

THE air around was trembling-bright
And full of dancing specks of light,
While butterflies were dancing too
Between the shining green and blue.
I might not watch, I might not stay,
I ran along the meadow way.

The straggling brambles caught my feet,
The clover field was, oh! so sweet;
I heard a singing in the sky,
And busy things went buzzing by;
And how it came I cannot tell,
But all the hedges sang as well.

Along the clover-field I ran
To where the little wood began,

And there I understood at last
Why I had come so far, so fast
On every leaf of every tree
A fairy sat and smiled at me!
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