Ere a leaf is on a bush, 25 In the time before the thrush Has a thought about her [2] nest, Thou wilt come with half a call, Spreading out thy glossy breast Like a careless Prodigal; 30 Telling tales about the sun, When we've little warmth, or none. Poets, vain men in their mood! Travel with the multitude: Never heed them; I aver 35 That they all are wanton wooers; But the thrifty cottager, Who stirs little out of doors, Joys to spy thee near her home; Spring is coming, Thou art come! 40 [B] Comfort have thou of thy merit, Kindly, unassuming Spirit! Careless of thy neighbourhood, Thou dost show thy pleasant face On the moor, and in the wood, 45 In the lane;--there's not a place, Howsoever mean it be, But 'tis good enough for thee. Ill befal the yellow flowers, Children of the flaring hours! 50 Buttercups, that will be seen, Whether we will see or no; Others, too, of lofty mien; They have done as worldlings do, Taken praise that should be thine, 55 Little, humble Celandine! Prophet of delight and mirth, Ill-requited [3] upon earth; Herald of a mighty band, Of a joyous train ensuing, 60 Serving at my heart's command, Tasks that are no tasks renewing, [4] I will sing, as doth behove, Hymns in praise of what I love! * * * * * VARIANTS ON THE TEXT [Variant 1: 1836. ... great ... 1807.] [Variant 2: 1832. ... it's ... 1807.] [Variant 3: 1836. Scorn'd and slighted ... 1807.] [Variant 4: 1836. Singing at my heart's command, In the lanes my thoughts pursuing, 1807.] * * * * * FOOTNOTES ON THE TEXT [Footnote A: Common Pilewort.--W. W. 1807.] [Footnote B: The following stanza was inserted in the editions of 1836-1843: 'Drawn by what peculiar spell, By what charm for sight or smell, Do those wingèd dim-eyed creatures, Labourers sent from waxen cells, Settle on thy brilliant features, In neglect of buds and bells Opening daily at thy side, By the season multiplied?' In 1845 it was transferred to the following poem, where it will be found, with a change of text.--Ed.] * * * * * TO THE SAME FLOWER Composed May 1, 1802.--Published 1807 One of the "Poems of the Fancy."--Ed. Pleasures newly found are sweet When they lie about our feet: February last, my heart First at sight of thee was glad; All unheard of as thou art, 5 Thou must needs, I think, have had, Celandine! and long ago, Praise of which I nothing know.