"THE cornucopia of Ceres I seek not, fading not for these, But fair Pomona, gardener's daughter, Laughing like bird-feathered water. Amid this hot green glowing gloom A word falls with a rain-drop's boom; And baskets of ripe fruit in air The bird-songs seem, suspended where Those goldfinches, the ripe warm lights, Peck slyly at them, take quick flights. I bring you branches green with dew And fruits that you may crown anew Your waspish-gilded hair until That cornucopia doth spill Dew, and your warm lips bear the stains, And bird-blood leap within your veins. Pomona, lovely gardener's daughter, Fruits like ripples of the water Soon will fade . . . then leave your fruits, Smooth as your cheek or the birds' flutes, And in this lovelier smoother shade Listen to my serenade." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 34. THE DARK GLASS by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE PRAYSE OF LADY PECUNIA by RICHARD BARNFIELD ASOLANDO: BEATRICE SIGNORINI by ROBERT BROWNING WALNUTS by OUIDA LOUISE CHEYNEY THE BLACK RIDERS: 55 by STEPHEN CRANE PENITENT by CHRISTINE TURNER CURTIS |