Who shall sing a simple ditty about the Willow,
Dainty-fine and delicate as any bending spray
That dandles high the dainty bird that flutters there to trill a
Tremulously tender song of greeting to the May.
Bravest, too, of all the trees! - none to match your daring,-
First of greens to greet the Spring and lead in leafy sheen;-
Aye, and you're the last - almost into winter wearing
Still the leaf of loyalty - still the badge of green.
Ah, my lovely willow! -let the waters lilt your graces,-
They alone with limped kisses lave your leaves above,
Flashing back your silvan beauty, and in shady places
Peering up with glimmering pebbles, like the eyes of love.
