XIV
In Shadow
I dreaded that first robin so,But he is mastered now,And I ‘m accustomed to him grown,—He hurts a little, though.
I thought if I could only liveTill that first shout got by,Not all pianos in the woodsHad power to mangle me.
I dared not meet the daffodils,For fear their yellow gownWould pierce me with a fashionSo foreign to my own.
I wished the grass would hurry,So when ‘t was time to see,He ‘d be too tall, the tallest oneCould stretch to look at me.
I could not bear the bees should come,I wished they ‘d stay awayIn those dim countries where they go:What word had they for me?
They ‘re here, though; not a creature failed,No blossom stayed awayIn gentle deference to me,The Queen of Calvary.
Each one salutes me as he goes,And I my childish plumesLift, in bereaved acknowledgmentOf their unthinking drums.