A black cat among roses, Phlox, lilac-misted under a first-quarter moon, The sweet smells of heliotrope and night-scented stock. The garden is very still, It is dazed with moonlight, Contented with perfume, Dreaming the opium dreams of its folded poppies. Firefly lights open and vanish High as the tip buds of the golden glow Low as the sweet alyssum flowers at my feet. Moon-shimmer on leaves and trellises, Moon-spikes shafting through the snowball bush. Only the little faces of the ladies' delight are alert and staring, Only the cat, padding between the roses, Shakes a branch and breaks the chequered pattern As water is broken by the falling of a leaf. Then you come, And you are quiet like the garden, And white like the alyssum flowers, And beautiful as the silent sparks of the fireflies. Ah, Beloved, do you see those orange lilies? They knew my mother, But who belonging to me will they know When I am gone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE COMING OF GOOD LUCK by ROBERT HERRICK DRAKE'S DRUM by HENRY JOHN NEWBOLT MY LITTLE GARDEN by GWENDOLEN ALLEN INHERITANCE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: ON THE SEA by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 3. ABANDON ALL HOPE ALL YE THAT ENTER HERE by EDWARD CARPENTER |