An Arcady Girl
His gold beams a-spinning, I asked of the sun
If he ever had any to spare;
“Only once,” he replied, “too many I spun,
And I gave them to Peggy for hair.”
I asked of the sky if his stars were all right,
Or if he had over-supplies;
He said, “I had two which were rather too bright,
So I gave them to Peggy for eyes.”
I asked of some fays who were cutting out flowers
If they had any remnants or snips;
They said: “We had scraps of these poppies of ours,
But we gave them to Peggy for lips.”
I said to the rain, “What becomes of the drops
That you may not have used when it clears?”
He said, “If there are any left when it stops,
I’ll give them to Peggy for tears.”
I artfully coaxed him to spill them all out,
And scatter them over the miles,
And that is the reason, I haven’t a doubt,
That Peg’s always dimpling with smiles.