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 Love has crept into her sealed heart

As a field bee, black and amber,

Breaks from the winter-cell, to clamber

Up the warm grass where the sunbeams start.

Love has crept into her summery eyes,

And a glint of colored sunshine brings

Such as his along the folded wings

Of the bee before he flies.

But I with my ruffling, impatient breath

Have loosened the wings of the wild young sprite;

He has opened them out in a reeling flight,

And down her words he hasteneth.

Love flies delighted in her voice:

The hum of his glittering, drunken wings

Sets quivering with music the little things

That she says, and her simple words rejoice.

D. H. LAWRENCE