Poems (Mitford)/To the Glow-worm

by Mary Russell Mitford

TO THE GLOW-WORM.

Hail! insect of the em'rald ray!
 Fair boast of summer's ev'ning hour!
Whose beams with trembling lustre play,
 And gild thy little verdant bow'r!

I love to seek thee on the hill,
 When sweetly falls the ev'ning dew,
To listen to the trickling rill,
 And mark the twilight's soften'd hue.

I love to view the deep'ning shades,
 The waving spots of varying light,
The cottage, rising 'mid the glades,
 With little casements glist'ning bright.

Whilst hanging o'er the limpid stream,
 Whose waters faintly murm'ring glide,
A brilliant star thou seem'st to gleam,
 Reflected on the silver tide.

The village-maid by thy pale rays
 To meet her plighted lover roves,
Weaves visions gay of future days,
 And, sweetly blushing, owns she loves.

And round thee oft, as poets sing,
 Fair elfin beings circling tread,
Trip gaily o'er the fairy ring,
 And balmy odors round thee spread.

Oh! may no daring hand intrude
 To pluck thee from thy green retreat!
No wand'ring rustic's footstep rude
 E'er crush thee in thy tranquil seat!

Though forked lightning round thee play,
 Though brilliant meteors wildly glare,
Still may thy pale and modest ray
 Shed em'rald lustre through the air!