Ye elves! when spangled starlight gleams, <br /> That flit beneath the ray, <br />Till morning darts her magic beams <br /> And pale night hies away: <br />Ye know where springs each flow'ret rare, <br /> The sweetest seek for me: <br />I'll weave a chaplet rich and fair— <br /> My father! 'tis for thee! <br /> <br />The flow'rs, the trees, the birds appear <br /> To wait but on my call; <br />But he whose power has plac'd them here <br /> Is dearer far than all: <br />My thoughts with tender pleasure rest <br /> On each delight I see; <br />But all the love that swells in my breast, <br /> My father, is for thee!<br /><br />Louisa Stuart Costello<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/miranda-s-song/
