198. To Daffadils
Fair Daffadils, we weep to seeYou haste away so soon;As yet the early-rising sunHas not attain’d his noon.Stay, stay,Until the hasting dayHas runBut to the even-song;And, having pray’d together, weWill go with you along.
We have short time to stay, as you;We have as short a spring;As quick a growth to meet decay,As you, or any thing.We dieAs your hours do, and dryAway,Like to the summer’s rain;Or as the pearls of morning’s dew,Ne’er to be found again.