 | English Roses |  |
A LATE FLOWER.
Long grey stretches as of desert sand
Lay before him, and behind
Dust and darkness;
And his fortune was in his own hand,
Though around him unconfined
Sterile starkness.
Lo, he journeyed on through life,
Not the noble stir of strife
But a sordid path of seeking
For the grains of gold beneath the dirt;
No white fingers with soft sleeking
Touched him, in his selfishness begirt.
Lay before him, and behind
Dust and darkness;
And his fortune was in his own hand,
Though around him unconfined
Sterile starkness.
Lo, he journeyed on through life,
Not the noble stir of strife
But a sordid path of seeking
For the grains of gold beneath the dirt;
No white fingers with soft sleeking
Touched him, in his selfishness begirt.
On his head the burden of the years
Spoiled by petty greed and gain,
Dully rested;
And he never knew the joy of tears,
Or deliciousness of pain
Woman-breasted.
Grasping at the shadows dim
Where mirages swoon and swim,
Downward still he bent and travelled;
Seeing but amid the dross the ore,
Not vast questions there unravelled
If he stayed to wonder and adore.
Spoiled by petty greed and gain,
Dully rested;
And he never knew the joy of tears,
Or deliciousness of pain
Woman-breasted.
Grasping at the shadows dim
Where mirages swoon and swim,
Downward still he bent and travelled;
Seeing but amid the dross the ore,
Not vast questions there unravelled
If he stayed to wonder and adore.
Then from out the wilderness and shade
And his grovelling duty's close,
Flashed the human;
God-imagined, sweet and heavenly-made,
Redder than the red blush-rose,
One bright woman.
And the treasures of his trust
Sank to native rot and rust,
Every grain stood a stern witness;
For he felt his highest aims were mean,
And before her dainty fitness
All his grandest efforts all unclean.
And his grovelling duty's close,
Flashed the human;
God-imagined, sweet and heavenly-made,
Redder than the red blush-rose,
One bright woman.
And the treasures of his trust
Sank to native rot and rust,
574
For he felt his highest aims were mean,
And before her dainty fitness
All his grandest efforts all unclean.
Thus the axis of his being turned
Round to something fair and fine,
At the vision;
And the heart within him breathed and burned
With new passion and divine
Love's decision.
Worthless weighed his pleasures old,
In the rapture of real gold
And the glory of its greatness;
Till at last his life in sudden power,
Reckless of the evening's lateness,
Rushed into the fulness of its flower.
Round to something fair and fine,
At the vision;
And the heart within him breathed and burned
With new passion and divine
Love's decision.
Worthless weighed his pleasures old,
In the rapture of real gold
And the glory of its greatness;
Till at last his life in sudden power,
Reckless of the evening's lateness,
Rushed into the fulness of its flower.
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