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The Blue Poetry Book

by Andrew Lang

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To Daffodils

Fair Daffodils, we weep to see
    You haste away so soon:
As yet the early-rising Sun
    Has not attain’d his noon.
          Stay, stay,
    Until the hasting day
          Has run
    But to the even-song;
And, having pray’d together, we
    Will go with you along.

We have short time to stay, as you,
    We have as short a Spring;
As quick a growth to meet decay,
    As you, or any thing.
          We die,
    As your hours do, and dry
          Away,
    Like to the Summer’s rain;
Or as the pearls of morning’s dew
    Ne’er to be found again.

R. Herrick.

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