 | Sonnets of the Wingless Hours |  |
20
CORSO DE' FIORI.
This is the Fight of Roses; and to-day
Florence does credit to its flow'ry name;
And every carriage, rose-wreathed wheel and frame,
Panel and trappings, seeks the dewy fray
Florence does credit to its flow'ry name;
And every carriage, rose-wreathed wheel and frame,
Panel and trappings, seeks the dewy fray
To fling its yellow rosebuds, or display
Bright silk-clad human blossoms; till the flame
Of sunset dwindles, and the fair hands aim
Their last wet rose as daylight wanes away.
Bright silk-clad human blossoms; till the flame
Of sunset dwindles, and the fair hands aim
Their last wet rose as daylight wanes away.
And all are gone to see it, and to breathe
Great April's breath, who marshals his approach
With such a pomp and pageantry of hue,
Great April's breath, who marshals his approach
With such a pomp and pageantry of hue,
That even I have half a mind to wreathe
The wheels of my uncomfortable coach
With rose-buds, too, to give great Spring his due.
The wheels of my uncomfortable coach
With rose-buds, too, to give great Spring his due.
| Sonnets of the Wingless Hours | |