“Stay thy soft murmuring waters, gentle rill; Hush, whispering winds; ye rustling leaves, be still; Rest, silver butterflies, your quivering wings; Alight, ye beetles, from your airy rings; Ye painted moths, your gold-eyed plumage furl, Bow your wide horns, your spiral trunks uncurl; Glitter, ye glow-worms, on your mossy beds; Descend, ye spiders, on your lengthen’d threads; Slide here, ye horned snails with varnish’d shells; Ye bee nymphs, listen in your waxen cells.”