Across the downs a hummingbird Came dipping through the bowers, He pivoted on emptiness To scrutinize the flowers.
Nathalia CraneOh I'm in love with the janitor's boy, And the janitor's boy loves me; He's going to hunt for a desert isle In our geography.
Nathalia CraneWhen you return, the youngest of the seers, Released from fetters of ancestral pose, There will be beauty waiting down the years Revisions of the ruby and the rose.
Nathalia Crane