noon
Art thou a fairy smuggler , Defying law ? Didst take of last year 's summer More than summer saw ? Or hast thou stolen frost-flakes Secretly at night ? Thy stamens tipped with silver , Thy petals spotless white , Are so like those which cover My window-pane ; Wilt thou , like them , turn back at noon To drops again ? Oh , little Tiarella , Thy silence speaks ; No more my foolish question Thy secret seeks . The sunshine on my window Lies all the day . How shouldst thou know that summer Has passed away ?