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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
A DREAM OF NOVEMBER; TO ARTHUR SYMONS, by EDMUND WILLIAM GOSSE Poet's Biography
First Line: Far, far away, I know not where, I know not how
Last Line: Dark bronze, bright leaves, pure silken threads, in triple flower.
First Line: Far, far away, I know not where, I know not how
Last Line: Dark bronze, bright leaves, pure silken threads, in triple flower.
FAR, far away, I know not where, I know not how,
The skies are gray, the boughs are bare, bare boughs in flower;
Long lilac silk is softly drawn from bough to bough,
With flowers of milk and buds of fawn, a broidered shower.
Beneath that tent an Empress sits, with slanted eyes,
And wafts of scent from censers flit, a lilac flood;
Around her throne bloom peach and plum in lacquered dyes,
And many a blown chrysanthemum, and many a bud.
She sits and dreams, while bonzes twain strike some rich bell,
Whose music seems a metal rain of radiant dye;
In this strange birth of various blooms, I cannot tell
Which sprang from earth, which slipped from looms, which sank from sky.
Beneath her wings of lilac dim, in robes of blue,
The Empress sings a wordless hymn that thrills her bower;
My trance unweaves, and winds, and shreds, and weaves anew
Dark bronze, bright leaves, pure silken threads, in triple flower.
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