 | Dirge for Aoine and other poems |  |
xviii
IN KEW GARDENS
The lake is blue, the lake is gray.
Around the lake tall flag-leaves sway
And swither in the gentle wind.
The sun is strong enough to blind
Weak eyes that love a shaded room.
The tulips break in scarlet bloom.
Blood-red, wine-red, the peonies stand
Like purpled flames on either hand.
Around the lake tall flag-leaves sway
And swither in the gentle wind.
The sun is strong enough to blind
Weak eyes that love a shaded room.
The tulips break in scarlet bloom.
Blood-red, wine-red, the peonies stand
Like purpled flames on either hand.
The peacocks spread their splendid fans
And flaunt before the pelicans.
Wisht doves in yonder elm-trees try
To mock the cuckoo's wandering cry
With drawling voices sad and soft,
Half lost among the leaves aloft.
The white moth with the brown moth flies
In shadowy silken companies.
And flaunt before the pelicans.
Wisht doves in yonder elm-trees try
To mock the cuckoo's wandering cry
With drawling voices sad and soft,
Half lost among the leaves aloft.
The white moth with the brown moth flies
In shadowy silken companies.
Blue into amber fades away;
The furthest trees are hazy gray;
The purple clouds grow tender green;
The rosy clouds mass soft between.
The wild-fowl by the water-side
Cry as if man's first day had died
And Adam, naked, stood alone
'Neath the first darkness he had known.
The furthest trees are hazy gray;
The purple clouds grow tender green;
The rosy clouds mass soft between.
The wild-fowl by the water-side
Cry as if man's first day had died
And Adam, naked, stood alone
'Neath the first darkness he had known.
| Dirge for Aoine and other poems | |