Page:Poems Osgood.djvu/149

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the flower and humming-bird.
139

The next, it shone with the sapphire's blue,
And now with the amethyst's purple play!

What can it be? It is changing still
To an emerald tint—to the sunshine's glow—
Can the maiden alter her gems at will?
And gift with wings each luminous show?

With wings—they are fluttering, tiny, and light,
Like those which we fancy the fairies wear—
Ah! look! the treasure has taken flight,
'Twas a humming-bird caught in that golden snare!

Silly rover! you fly from those silken rings,
Where Love—a light prisoner—hugs his chain!
Oh, you never will shut your shining wings
On a flower so rare and sweet again!