Poems (Scudder)/The Tuileries in March
THE TUILERIES IN MARCH
Around the fountain's rim the stone gods wear A milder aspect. Even Father Nile Has smoothed his rugged features to a smile The sturdy godlings clutching at his hair And brawny shoulder. See, how quickly there Across the steel-tinged water darts a boat By two bare-legged youngsters set afloat. Its pointed yellow sail in this light air Seems a belated autumn leaf. Behind, Yon granite nymph that races with the wind And never tires, has checked for once her stride. An unguessed softness in her eager face, She stoops to gather with a timid grace The white and golden pansies at her side.
The folk who throng the paths are plainly dressed In sober colors, but the pigeons stalk So proudly up and down each sheltered walk And each displays on swelling throat and breast The season's latest shades for gown and vest Only the lindens—for sun-hours are brief, Reveal a glimmer of unfolding leaf—The other trees have spread against the west Their fan-shaped webs of black point-lace that veil With exquisite design a sky of pale Geranium and silver, daintily Brocaded. Yet, I watch where far away The obelisk from Egypt lifts its grey Lean finger pointed skyward warningly.