 | Joaquin Miller's Poems |  |
XXIV
Wild lilies, tall as maidens are,As sweet of breath, as purely fair,
As fair as faith, as true as truth,
Fell thick before our iron tread,
In fragrant sacrifice of ruth.
Rich ripened fruit a fragrance shed
And hung in hand-reach overhead,
In nest of blossoms on the shoot,
The very shoot that bore the fruit.
| Joaquin Miller's Poems | |