Wild bees that rifle the mango blossom
Set free awhile from the love-God's string
Wild birds that sway in the citron branches
Drunk with the rich, red honey of spring

Fireflies weaving aërial dances
In fragile rhythms of flickering gold
What do you know in your blithe, brief season
Of dreams deferred and a heart grown old?

But the wise winds know, as they pause to slacken
The speed of their subtle, omniscient flight
Divining the magic of unblown lilies
Foretelling the stars of the unborn night

They have followed the hurrying feet of pilgrims
Tracking swift prayers to their utmost goals
They have spied on Love's old and changeless secret
And the changing sorrow of human souls

They have tarried with Death in her parleying-places
And issued the word of her high decree
Their wings have winnowed the garnered sunlight
Their lips have tasted the purple sea