 | Joaquin Miller's Poems |  |
VIII
The broad magnolia's blooms were white;
Her blooms were large, as if the moon
Quite lost her way that dreamful night,
And lodged to wait the afternoon.
Her blooms were large, as if the moon
Quite lost her way that dreamful night,
And lodged to wait the afternoon.
Oh, vast white blossoms, breathing love!
White bosom of my lady dead,
In your white heaven overhead
I look, and learn to look above.
White bosom of my lady dead,
In your white heaven overhead
I look, and learn to look above.
| Joaquin Miller's Poems | |