Whose are the little beds, I asked

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Whose are the little beds, I asked
Which in the valleys lie?
Some shook their heads, and others smiled -
And no one made reply.

Perhaps they did not hear, I said,
I will inquire again -
Whose are the beds - the tiny beds
So thick upon the plain?

'Tis Daisy, in the shortest -
A little further on -
Nearest the door - to wake the Ist -
Little Leontoden.

'Tis Iris, Sir, and Aster -
Anemone, and Bell -
Bartsia, in the blanket red -
And chubby Daffodil.

Meanwhile, at many cradles
Her busy foot she plied -
Humming the quaintest lullaby
That ever rocked a child.

Hush! Epigea wakens!
The Crocus stirs her lids -
Rhodora's cheek is crimson,
She's dreaming of the woods!

Then turning from them reverent -
Their bedtime 'tis, she said -
The Bumble bees will wake them
When April woods are red.