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A Mien to move a Queen --A Mien to move a Queen –
Half Child — Half Heroine –
An Orleans in the Eye
That puts its manner by
For humbler Company
When none are near
Even a Tear –
Its frequent Visitor –

A Bonnet like a Duke –
And yet a Wren’s Peruke
Were not so shy
Of Goer by –
And Hands — so slight –
They would elate a Sprite
With Merriment –

A Voice that Alters — Low
And on the Ear can go
Like Let of Snow –
Or shift supreme –
As tone of Realm
On Subjects Diadem –

Too small — to fear –
Too distant — to endear –
And so Men Compromise
And just — revere –

The Court is far away --The Court is far away –
No Umpire — have I –
My Sovereign is offended –
To gain his grace — I’d die!

I’ll seek his royal feet –
I’ll say — Remember — King –
Thou shalt — thyself — one day — a Child –
Implore a larger — thing –

That Empire — is of Czars –
As small — they say — as I –
Grant me — that day — the royalty –
To intercede — for Thee –

Whose are the little beds, I askedWhose are the little beds, I asked
Which in the valleys lie?
Some shook their heads, and others smiled –
And no one made reply.

Perhaps they did not hear, I said,
I will inquire again –
Whose are the beds — the tiny beds
So thick upon the plain?

‘Tis Daisy, in the shortest –
A little further on –
Nearest the door — to wake the Ist –
Little Leontoden.

‘Tis Iris, Sir, and Aster –
Anemone, and Bell –
Bartsia, in the blanket red –
And chubby Daffodil.

Meanwhile, at many cradles
Her busy foot she plied –
Humming the quaintest lullaby
That ever rocked a child.

Hush! Epigea wakens!
The Crocus stirs her lids –
Rhodora’s cheek is crimson,
She’s dreaming of the woods!

Then turning from them reverent –
Their bedtime ’tis, she said –
The Bumble bees will wake them
When April woods are red.

Cocoon above! Cocoon below!These are the days when Birds come back –
A very few — a Bird or two –
To take a backward look.

These are the days when skies resume
The old — old sophistries of June –
A blue and gold mistake.

Oh fraud that cannot cheat the Bee –
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief.

Till ranks of seeds their witness bear –
And softly thro’ the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf.

Oh Sacrament of summer days,
Oh Last Communion in the Haze –
Permit a child to join.

Thy sacred emblems to partake –
They consecrated bread to take
And thine immortal wine!