Ye elves! when spangled starlight gleams, br That flit beneath the ray, br Till morning darts her magic beams br And pale night hies away: br Ye know where springs each flow'ret rare, br The sweetest seek for me: br I'll weave a chaplet rich and fair— br My father! 'tis for thee! br br The flow'rs, the trees, the birds appear br To wait but on my call; br But he whose power has plac'd them here br Is dearer far than all: br My thoughts with tender pleasure rest br On each delight I see; br But all the love that swells in my breast, br My father, is for thee!br br Louisa Stuart Costellobr br