The land has tributes for you now, From east and west and north and south; For not a passion flower's bloom But brings you kisses for your mouth; And not a cardinal flower but tells Of days beyond the days of drouth. The colors lure you down the aisle, You were so spendthrift of your light, Now scarlet and Castilian red Torch omens past the candles white, And rocks flash out that are not leagued With any drop of blotted night. |