What part of life is hiding Is painted forever on the marked skins of beasts, And in the clashing feathers of wild birds. Dappled with the black of shadow And the fierce tones that die in sunlight, These wear forever in their clothing The secret of their habitation. The gaudy pheasant is lost in his thicket, When noon is stippled orange on black with a green necklace, And the jewelled scarlet of the cardinal Sleeps beside the red burst Of the trumpet vine, Touched with diamonds of the sun. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 4 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING ON EXPLORATION by JAMES GALVIN AT APRIL by ANGELINA WELD GRIMKE THE GRASSHOPPER AND THE CRICKET by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT GROWN-UP by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY LET NO CHARITABLE HOPE by ELINOR WYLIE STANZAS OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF H-- A-- by BERNARD BARTON |