 | Weeping-Cross and Other Rimes by A. H. Bullen |  |
24
JESSAMINE AND BIRCH
“The golden jessamine looks rare
Beside that cottage door:
Who'd guess that anything so fair
Our bleak December bore?”
Beside that cottage door:
Who'd guess that anything so fair
Our bleak December bore?”
So I: well-pleased he stood to mark,
Then on the frozen road
A league and more through gathering dark
At brisker pace we strode.
Then on the frozen road
A league and more through gathering dark
At brisker pace we strode.
All-suddenly the moon's full face
Shone clear without a smirch,
And upsprang—miracle of grace—
A silver-plumèd birch.
Shone clear without a smirch,
And upsprang—miracle of grace—
A silver-plumèd birch.
Then he: “December, fools will say,
Is bankrupt of delight;
Yet jessamine flaunts gold by day,
And birch o'ersilvers night!”
Is bankrupt of delight;
Yet jessamine flaunts gold by day,
And birch o'ersilvers night!”
| Weeping-Cross and Other Rimes by A. H. Bullen | |