 | Passion-Flowers |  |
122
STANZAS.
Acres of rose-garden swell the slopes of Persia,
And the blushing summer binds from them her hair;
In her veil star-spangled, in her saffron vesture,
Roses still she gathers, still scatters everywhere.
And the blushing summer binds from them her hair;
In her veil star-spangled, in her saffron vesture,
Roses still she gathers, still scatters everywhere.
Roses, many-gathered, yield one drop of attar,
Fullest concentration and faintness of delight;
This the winter treasures, breath of Beauty frozen,
Soul of sense that summons lost Summer back to sight.
Fullest concentration and faintness of delight;
This the winter treasures, breath of Beauty frozen,
Soul of sense that summons lost Summer back to sight.
Poets thus that fling us lavish growth of blossoms
Gift us with their Summer, perishing ere they;
They who press life's secret from its pleasures, leave us
Ravishment unfading, a joy of joys for aye.
Gift us with their Summer, perishing ere they;
They who press life's secret from its pleasures, leave us
Ravishment unfading, a joy of joys for aye.
| Passion-Flowers | |