by Hermann Hagedorn
Through tree-top and clover a-whirr and away
!Hi! little rover, stop and stay.
Merry, absurd, excited wag—
Lilliput-bird in Brobdingnag!
Wild and free as the wild thrush, and warier—
Was ever a bee merrier, airier?
Wings folded so, a second or two—
Was ever a crow more solemn than you?
A-whirr again over the garden, away!
Who calls, little rover, Bird or fay?
Agleam and aglow, incarnate bliss!
What do you know that we humans miss?
In the lily's chalice, what rune, what spell,
In the rose's palace, what do they tell
(When the door you bob in, airily)
That they hush from the robin, hide from the bee?
—Fearing the crew of chatter and song,
And tell to you of the chantless tongue?
Chantless! Ah, yes. Is that the sting
Masked in gay dress and whirring wing?
Faith! But a wing of such airy stuff!
What need to sing? Here's music enough.
A-whirr, and over tree-top, and through!
Hi! little rover, fair travel to you.
Sweet, absurd, excited wag—
Lilliput-bird in Brobdingnag!