 | Love-Songs |  |
48
WITH WHITER PLUMES.
I loved a lily: The sweet flower was near,
And, bearing petals less majestic far,
Shone as a lesser individual star,
Made by a sweet proximity as dear
As the imperial rose,—and white and clear
The lily shone; but when the flower was full,
Another hand had interfered to pull
The petals,—an intruder's foot was here.
And, bearing petals less majestic far,
Shone as a lesser individual star,
Made by a sweet proximity as dear
As the imperial rose,—and white and clear
The lily shone; but when the flower was full,
Another hand had interfered to pull
The petals,—an intruder's foot was here.
And so I miss my lily and my rose,
Fated to love for ever but to find
No flower for me her tenderest depths disclose;
Yet bear I some triumphant mirth of mind,
In that the lily kissed me, and hath shined
Because of me with whiter plumes of snows.
Fated to love for ever but to find
No flower for me her tenderest depths disclose;
Yet bear I some triumphant mirth of mind,
In that the lily kissed me, and hath shined
Because of me with whiter plumes of snows.
| Love-Songs | |