Did you hear the frolicsome zephyrs pass?" 

The clover said to the meadow grass, 

"They came along with the morning sun, 

And gathered our dew-drops, every one. 

We had only time to nod good-day, 

E'er they were gone on their roving way

Gone on their airy, fairy wings. 

Ah! Would they had told about, the things, 

The beautiful, wonderful things they see 

In their gladsome life, so wild and free.

"We saw them kissing the golden sheaves, 

We heard them laughing among the leaves; 

They rocked the nests full of birdlings brown, 

And played at ball with the thistle-down. 

Then, merrily off to the streamlet's way, 

Where willows weep and tall ferns sway 

Their graceful fronds to the subtle breath 

That ripples the dancing waves beneath, 

They swept away on its restless flow, 

And we wished we knew all the zephyrs know."