Starers

The small birds peck at apples ripe,

And twice as big as them in size;

The wind doth make the hedge’s leaves

Shiver with joy, until it dies.

Young Gossamer is in the field;

He holds the flowers with silver line—

They nod their heads as horses should.

And there are forty dappled kine

As fat as snails in deep, dark wells,

And just as shiny too—as they

Lie in a green field, motionless,

And every one now stares my way.

I must become a starer too:

I stare at them as urchins can

When seamen talk, or any child

That sees by chance its first black man.

I stare at drops of rain that shine

Like glowworms, when the time is noon;

I stare at little stars in Heaven,

That try to stare like the big Moon.