As tiny as they are, they are
quite visible upon the trees;
their convex shades define them there,
profuse among the close-packed leaves;
and now the privet starts to flower,
little white trees sweeten the breeze,
we should breathe an easeful hour -
nor catch my breath that fiend still grieves.
Set the summer to swelling
all that bears fruit;
nestlings flit-feather air,
sing with new tweet-flute,
variety re-tincture Eden -
till crack the husks of care.
