 | In Russet & Silver |  |
62
THE WALL-PAPER
When I was only five years old,
My mother, who was soon to die,
Raised me with fingers soft and cold,
On high;
My mother, who was soon to die,
Raised me with fingers soft and cold,
On high;
Until, against the parlour wall,
I reached a golden paper flower.
How proud was I, and ah! how tall,
That hour!
I reached a golden paper flower.
How proud was I, and ah! how tall,
That hour!
“This shining tulip shall be yours,
Your own, your very own,” she said;
The mark that made it mine endures
In red.
Your own, your very own,” she said;
The mark that made it mine endures
In red.
I scarce could see it from the floor;
I craned to touch the scarlet sign;
No gift so precious had before
Been mine.
I craned to touch the scarlet sign;
No gift so precious had before
Been mine.
63
A paper tulip on a wall!
A boon that ownership defied!
Yet this was dearer far than all
Beside.
A boon that ownership defied!
Yet this was dearer far than all
Beside.
Real toys, real flowers that lavish love
Had strewn before me, all and each
Grew pale beside this gift above
My reach.
Had strewn before me, all and each
Grew pale beside this gift above
My reach.
Ah! now that time has worked its will,
And fooled my heart, and dazed my eyes,
Delusive tulips prove me still
Unwise.
And fooled my heart, and dazed my eyes,
Delusive tulips prove me still
Unwise.
Still, still the eluding flower that glows
Above the hands that yearn and clasp
Seems brighter than the genuine rose
I grasp.
Above the hands that yearn and clasp
Seems brighter than the genuine rose
I grasp.
So has it been since I was born;
So will it be until I die;
Stars, the best flowers of all, adorn
The sky.
So will it be until I die;
Stars, the best flowers of all, adorn
The sky.
| In Russet & Silver | |