Dewdrops...

This morning, whilst the rest of the house was soundly sleeping, I had a few peaceful moments walking around my garden. It had rained constantly overnight and I have a bit of an obsession with dewdrops at the moment. I like the way they seem to defy gravity.

I found this lovely poem written by Amelia in 1850.

The Dewdrop

I Am a sparkling drop of dew,
Just wept from yon silver star,

But drops of dew have very few

To care for what they are;
For little ye dream, who dwell below,

Of all I've wandered through;
Ye only know I sparkle so,
Because I'm a drop of dew.
I flashed at first with waves, that whirl
O'er the blue, blue, tossing sea;
Where eddies curl o'er beds of pearl
I wandered wild and free,
Till I chanced to spy an elfin king,

And I danced before his view,
When the merry thing, with his glittering wing,

Whisked off the drop of dew.
The evening air with sweets was fraught,
And away we flitted far,
When, quick as thought, I was upward caught,
To yon lovely vesper star;
And I'm very sure a gentle charm
That bright thing round me threw,
For an angel form, in her bosom warm,
Enfolded the drop of dew.
But I slept not long in yon starry bower,

In the bosom of my love,
For, in a shower, to this primrose flower,
She sent me from above.
And soon its moonlight leaves will close,
But they hide me not from view,
For the wind, that flows o'er the young primrose,
Will kiss off the drop of dew