"Pondering shadows, colors, clouds
Grass-buds, and caterpillar shrouds
Boughs on which the wild bees settle,
Tints that spot the violet's petal."
FOR WHOM THEY WERE FANCIED,
THESE FLOWER FABLES
BY HER FRIEND,
Boston, Dec. 9, 1854.
THE summer moon shone brightly down upon the sleeping earth, while far away from
mortal eyes danced the Fairy folk. Fire-flies hung in bright clusters on the dewy leaves,
that waved in the cool night-wind; and the flowers stood gazing, in very wonder, at the
little Elves, who lay among the fern-leaves, swung in the vine-boughs, sailed on the lake
in lily cups, or danced on the mossy ground, to the music of the hare-bells, who rung out
their merriest peal in honor of the night.
Under the shade of a wild rose sat the Queen and her little Maids of Honor, beside the
silvery mushroom where the feast was spread.
"Now, my friends," said she, "to while away the time till the bright moon goes down, let
us each tell a tale, or relate what we have done or learned this day. I will begin with you,
Sunny Lock," added she, turning to a lovely little Elf, who lay among the fragrant leaves
of a primrose.
With a gay smile, "Sunny Lock" began her story.
"As I was painting the bright petals of a blue bell, it told me this tale."