 | English Roses |  |
YOLANDE.
Up from its green and gracious plinth
Arose the gentle hyacinth,
And made a carpet like the sky;
As if in blessing thus it broke,
And climbed with its blue altar smoke
To God and His eternity.
Yolande was by me, young Yolande,
The very sweetest and the meetest
Of all the maids that are discreetest,
Whose every look was a command.
And when the belfry counted seven
I claspt a fetter round her wrist,
As walked we through that mimic heaven—
Love-in-a-mist.
Arose the gentle hyacinth,
And made a carpet like the sky;
As if in blessing thus it broke,
And climbed with its blue altar smoke
To God and His eternity.
Yolande was by me, young Yolande,
The very sweetest and the meetest
Of all the maids that are discreetest,
Whose every look was a command.
And when the belfry counted seven
I claspt a fetter round her wrist,
As walked we through that mimic heaven—
Love-in-a-mist.
It nodded lowly on its bed
And laughed to feel our loving tread,
While forth we wandered, twain and one;
The earth had vanished from our gaze,
It glimmered out of purple haze
And time seemed now for ever done.
Yolande was listening to my tale,
Yolande the brightest and the lightest
Of fairy forms that are the slightest—
She listened with red cheek turned pale.
The hyacinth in gentlest motion
Was by the amorous zephyr kist,
As our lips met of mere devotion—
Love-in-a-mist.
And laughed to feel our loving tread,
While forth we wandered, twain and one;
94
It glimmered out of purple haze
And time seemed now for ever done.
Yolande was listening to my tale,
Yolande the brightest and the lightest
Of fairy forms that are the slightest—
She listened with red cheek turned pale.
The hyacinth in gentlest motion
Was by the amorous zephyr kist,
As our lips met of mere devotion—
Love-in-a-mist.
It bowed approval while we went,
As through the opening firmament
And in the shadow and the shine;
For clouds and gleams most softly set
The virtue of the violet
Beneath our feet, and did entwine.
Yolande was with me, fond and fair,
Yolande the surest and the purest
Of nun-like girls that are demurest—
We stept not upon earth, but air.
And in the bosom of blue glory
Wè only had to look and list
Unto our hearts, which told one story—
Love-in-a-mist.
As through the opening firmament
And in the shadow and the shine;
For clouds and gleams most softly set
The virtue of the violet
Beneath our feet, and did entwine.
Yolande was with me, fond and fair,
Yolande the surest and the purest
Of nun-like girls that are demurest—
We stept not upon earth, but air.
And in the bosom of blue glory
Wè only had to look and list
Unto our hearts, which told one story—
Love-in-a-mist.
We heeded not or bloom or plinth,
But trod the heavenly hyacinth,
As though we voyaged in the stars;
The walls of space had sundered quite,
And we were in the infinite
Outside all petty bounds and bars.
Yolande was near me, my Yolande,
The coy and clinging soul of singing,
Full-blooded, ripe and summer bringing—
And nothing more could I demand.
Our tie was not an earthly tether,
For all the world was amethyst;
And thus we walked, and walk together—
Love-in-a-mist.
But trod the heavenly hyacinth,
As though we voyaged in the stars;
The walls of space had sundered quite,
And we were in the infinite
Outside all petty bounds and bars.
Yolande was near me, my Yolande,
The coy and clinging soul of singing,
Full-blooded, ripe and summer bringing—
And nothing more could I demand.
Our tie was not an earthly tether,
For all the world was amethyst;
And thus we walked, and walk together—
Love-in-a-mist.
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