English Roses by F. Harald Williams [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] |
 |
| I. |
AN ARRANGEMENT IN GREEN. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
 | English Roses |  |
AN ARRANGEMENT IN GREEN.
Hazel her eyes with a glimmer of green,
Tawny her beautiful hair
Breaking like foam from a cincture unseen,
Conscious of course it was fair;
Soft with a hint of the seaweed's own tint
Tangled in shadows and lost,
Tumbled by wind that had travelled from Ind
Only for that to be tossed;
Ruffled as seawaves that leap to the light
Dropt by the moonbeams and caught,
Rippled and stippled in hues of delight
Painted by passion untaught.
Tawny her beautiful hair
Breaking like foam from a cincture unseen,
Conscious of course it was fair;
Soft with a hint of the seaweed's own tint
Tangled in shadows and lost,
Tumbled by wind that had travelled from Ind
Only for that to be tossed;
113
Dropt by the moonbeams and caught,
Rippled and stippled in hues of delight
Painted by passion untaught.
Pretty her pose in its triumph of green
Bursting like buds from their shell,
Carried to conquests befitting a queen,
Rhythmic in swaying or swell;
Breathed by a form that could feature the storm
Truly as evening and calm,
Bearing a hand with the air of command
Rich in its fate-written palm;
Showing the lines of a womanly shape
Meet for most passionate loves,
Reflex of character read in her cape
As in her glances and gloves.
Bursting like buds from their shell,
Carried to conquests befitting a queen,
Rhythmic in swaying or swell;
Breathed by a form that could feature the storm
Truly as evening and calm,
Bearing a hand with the air of command
Rich in its fate-written palm;
Showing the lines of a womanly shape
Meet for most passionate loves,
Reflex of character read in her cape
As in her glances and gloves.
Perfect her dress with its glamour of green
Graded in texture and tone,
Glad with the graces of all that has been
Pleasant or daintily shone;
Sweet as the plumes which the sunset illumes—
Fitting so closely and well,
But with each charm of the bosom or arm
Speaking a different spell;
Blent in one harmony not to be told
Lightly by masculine lips,
Rounded and bounded by beauty and gold
Right to her dear finger tips.
Graded in texture and tone,
Glad with the graces of all that has been
Pleasant or daintily shone;
Sweet as the plumes which the sunset illumes—
Fitting so closely and well,
But with each charm of the bosom or arm
Speaking a different spell;
Blent in one harmony not to be told
Lightly by masculine lips,
Rounded and bounded by beauty and gold
Right to her dear finger tips.
I to this comely arrangement in green
Decked like the springtide in flowers,
Rifted by grass and its verdure between,
Bent as disfranchised my powers;
Sometimes a look the reward or a book
Humbly upheld by her side,
Sometimes a frown or a whisk of her gown
Gathered in haste from the tide;
Yes, and when once (though the season was Lent)
Fortune erected a screen,
All I remembered was raptures and scent
Drowned in a glory of green.
Decked like the springtide in flowers,
Rifted by grass and its verdure between,
Bent as disfranchised my powers;
Sometimes a look the reward or a book
Humbly upheld by her side,
Sometimes a frown or a whisk of her gown
Gathered in haste from the tide;
Yes, and when once (though the season was Lent)
114
All I remembered was raptures and scent
Drowned in a glory of green.
| English Roses | |