Fireflies In The Corn

She speaks.     Look at the little darlings in the corn!      The rye is taller than you, who think yourself     So high and mighty: look how the heads are borne     Dark and proud on the sky, like a number of knights     Passing with spears and pennants and manly scorn.     Knights indeed! - much knight I know will ride      With his head held high-serene against the sky!     Limping and following rather at my side      Moaning for me to love him! - Oh darling rye     How I adore you for your simple pride!     And the dear, dear fireflies wafting in between      And over the swaying corn-stalks, just above     All the dark-feathered helmets, like little green      Stars come low and wandering here for love     Of these dark knights, shedding their delicate sheen!     I thank you I do, you happy creatures, you dears      Riding the air, and carrying all the time     Your little lanterns behind you! Ah, it cheers      My soul to see you settling and trying to climb     The corn-stalks, tipping with fire the spears.     All over the dim corn's motion, against the blue      Dark sky of night, a wandering glitter, a swarm     Of questing brilliant souls going out with their true      Proud knights to battle! Sweet, how I warm     My poor, my perished soul with the sight of you!