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WILD FLOWERS.
Pale apple-blossoms and red flowers,
Anemones and tulips tall,
Which light with flaming torch the showers
Of slim green leaves which round them fall,
Anemones and tulips tall,
Which light with flaming torch the showers
Of slim green leaves which round them fall,
Are smiling here, and through the rift
Of vanished years what thoughts arise,
As on each glowing bud I lift,
Dazzled and dim, my wearied eyes.
Of vanished years what thoughts arise,
As on each glowing bud I lift,
Dazzled and dim, my wearied eyes.
The sweet-brier fragrance of your youth,
A wild, free blossom, tender, pure,
Yet rich with promise (such in truth,
Ever, to raciest fruit, mature).
A wild, free blossom, tender, pure,
Yet rich with promise (such in truth,
Ever, to raciest fruit, mature).
The glory of our Tuscan spring,
Transparent, warm, with bloom divine,
From leaf and flower and vines which cling
From tree to tree with tendrils fine.
Transparent, warm, with bloom divine,
From leaf and flower and vines which cling
From tree to tree with tendrils fine.
