𝓗𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓰-𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓭
ʙʏ ᴀʟᴇxᴀɴᴅᴇʀ ᴡɪʟsᴏɴ

When the morning dawns, and the blest sun again
Lifts his red glories from the eastern main,
Then thro' our woodbines, wet with glittering dews,
The flower-fed humming-bird his round pursues;
Sips, with inserted tube, the honey'd blooms,
And chirps his gratitude as round he roams;
While richest roses, tho' in crimson drest,
Shrink from the splendor of his gorgeous breast.
What heavenly tints in mingling radiance fly,
Each rapid movement gives a different dye;
Like scales of burnish'd gold they dazzling show,
Now sink to shade — now like a furnace glow!

@演员艾米 #艾米[超话]#