University of Virginia Library

LONELY THOUGHT.

THE thoughts grow up and blossom in my breast;
And some do mock the sun-gold and the blue
Of June-clear heavens, some the angry hue
Of stormful sundowns blazoned in the West;
And others (fairest these and deadliest)
Hive in their cups a scented poison-dew,
Some honey-sweet and bitter some as rue.
And all spring up and die, alike unblest.
But in the secret cloisters of my soul

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A white flower sleeps upon a forest-pool,
Undying, and athwart the tree-shade cool
Sends up a blended breath of peace and dole:
And round the flower strange birds do flit and throng,
Sacring the silence with a low, clear song.