 | Voices and visions |  |
[IX Imperious to the dying rose rang forth]
Imperious to the dying rose rang forth
A blare of autumn, like a blast of fate:
‘The South was once your lover; now the North
Shall whelm you with a wave of equal hate.
Quick from your lissome leaves the glad red goes—
Quick from their deep heart floats the fragrant breath!
Of all your beauty and grace, O boastful rose,
I am the desolation and the death!’
A blare of autumn, like a blast of fate:
‘The South was once your lover; now the North
Shall whelm you with a wave of equal hate.
Quick from your lissome leaves the glad red goes—
Quick from their deep heart floats the fragrant breath!
Of all your beauty and grace, O boastful rose,
I am the desolation and the death!’
55
Mysterious where a withered rose-tree grew,
Murmured Spring's voice, half cadence, half caress:
‘Wake, flower, below bland calms of summer blue,
With lures of reincarnate loveliness!
Back to your phantom leaves the sly red flows—
Full soon with heavenly balm shall they be rife!
Of all your beauty and grace, O trustful rose,
I am the resurrection and the life!’
Murmured Spring's voice, half cadence, half caress:
‘Wake, flower, below bland calms of summer blue,
With lures of reincarnate loveliness!
Back to your phantom leaves the sly red flows—
Full soon with heavenly balm shall they be rife!
Of all your beauty and grace, O trustful rose,
I am the resurrection and the life!’
| Voices and visions | |