Garden Gossip, by Madison Cawein

  Thin, chisel-fine a cricket chipped
    The crystal silence into sound;
  And where the branches dreamed and dripped
  A grasshopper its dagger stripped
    And on the humming darkness ground.

  A bat, against the gibbous moon,
    Danced, implike, with its lone delight;
  The glowworm scrawled a golden rune
  Upon the dark; and, emerald-strewn,
    The firefly hung with lamps the night.

  The flowers said their beads in prayer,
    Dew-syllables of sighed perfume;
  Or talked of two, soft-standing there,
  One like a gladiole, straight and fair,
    And one like some rich poppy-bloom.

  The mignonette and feverfew
    Laid their pale brows together:—"See!"
  One whispered: "Did their step thrill through
  Your roots?"—"Like rain."—"I touched the two
    And a new bud was born in me."

  One rose said to another:—"Whose
    Is this dim music? song, that parts
  My crimson petals like the dews?"
  "My blossom trembles with sweet news—
    It is the love of two young hearts."