If all were rain and never sun,
No bow could span the hill;
If all were sun and never rain,

There'd be no rainbow still.

O wind, where have you been, That you blow so sweet? Among the violets

Which blossom at your feet.

The honeysuckle waits

For Summer and for heat. But violets in the chilly Spring Make the turf so sweet.

Brownie, Brownie, let down your milk
White as swansdown and smooth as silk,
Fresh as dew and pure as snow:

For I know where the cowslips blow,
And you shall have a cowslip wreath
No sweeter scented than your breath.

Rushes in a watery place,

And reeds in a hollow;

A soaring skylark in the sky,
A darting swallow;

And where pale blossom used to hang
Ripe fruit to follow.