 | Early and late poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
FLAWS.
O sunshine, like a cloth of gold
Drawn out along the air,
The clouds, or yellow, black, or brown,
A-sailing up, a-sailing down,
But make you doubly fair!
Drawn out along the air,
The clouds, or yellow, black, or brown,
A-sailing up, a-sailing down,
But make you doubly fair!
O grasses, like a queen's gay shawl
Upon her crowning day,
The border of rough, prickly burs,
And nettles black, and wilding furze,
Your tenderer tints display.
Upon her crowning day,
The border of rough, prickly burs,
And nettles black, and wilding furze,
Your tenderer tints display.
O bird of ragged quill, and wing
As speckled as a flower,
Sing, sing your heart up to your throat;
'T is just the one wild, wailing note
That gives your song its power.
As speckled as a flower,
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'T is just the one wild, wailing note
That gives your song its power.
Sweetheart of mine—sweetheart of mine,
Whom all my thoughts adore,
Hide your blue eyes, and frown and pout;
It is our little fallings out
That make us love the more!
Whom all my thoughts adore,
Hide your blue eyes, and frown and pout;
It is our little fallings out
That make us love the more!
Whatever things be fine or bright—
Gay grass, or golden air,
Or red of rose, or lily's snow—
It is the flaw that makes them so;
All fair would not be fair!
Gay grass, or golden air,
Or red of rose, or lily's snow—
It is the flaw that makes them so;
All fair would not be fair!
Of better things, it seems to me,
Life's best is but the sign;
Else, in this wicked world, would be
No room for blessèd charity—
No room for love divine.
Life's best is but the sign;
Else, in this wicked world, would be
No room for blessèd charity—
No room for love divine.
| Early and late poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |