"Sets the wheel a-birring."

Bouche-Mignonne her distaff plies
Where the willows shiver,
Round the mossy mill-wheel flies;
Dragon-flies a-quiver--
Flash a-thwart the lily-beds,
Pierce the dry reed's thicket:
Where the yellow sunlight treads
Chants the friendly cricket.
Butterflies about her skim
(Pouf! their simple fancies!)
In the willow shadows dim
Take her eyes for pansies!
Buzzing comes a velvet bee
Sagely it supposes
Those red lips beneath the tree
Are two crimson roses!
Laughs the mill-stream wise and bright
It is not so simple
Knew it, since she first saw light
Ev'ry blush and dimple!
"Bouche-Mignonne" it laughing cries
"Pierre as the bee is silly
"Thinks two morning stars thine eyes--
"And thy neck a lily!"

Bouche-Mignonne when shadows crept
From the vine-dark hollows;
When the mossy mill-wheel slept