Shadows fell from the trees and the dew spotted carnations
Stooped along the hedge-rows as if longing for the support of the gentle breeze...
the little birds, warbling on the sun beamed branches livened up the scene...
I stood still. My thoughts pulsating on my temples and with trembling hands
I lifted up the latch. I gazed and gazed and the verdure of the turf glowed underneath
the fleeting clouds.
A proud wren, of slender bill and rounded wings trilled my name
The murmur of the rivulet