The orange hue of the rainbow Is not so deep as thine; More rich than a golden goblet Influshing with sun-lit wine. On its calyx of pink thy corolla Catches sheen from the passing sun, As if powder of pearls were dusted And gleamed thy soft gold upon. Of a truth, the dainty fay-maidens Must have crimped thine edge so thin Alike to some fairyland pattern, On thy stamen for golden pin. Deep down in the cup of thy petals One spot of a purple stain, Where the elves forgot in their revels The last bright drop to drain. As the scintillant dust of amber In the sun does thy pollen shine; Such powder Queen Mab might covet To burnish her locks divine. At dusk thou modestly closest Thy petals with jealous fold; All night thou cosily sleepest In a tent of the cloth of gold. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE OPAL DREAM CAVE by KATHERINE MANSFIELD SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: WASHINGTON MCNEELY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS AND SO, I THINK DIOGENES by AMY LOWELL IN WALKED BUD WITH A PALETTE by CLARENCE MAJOR DOMESDAY BOOK: MRS. GREGORY WENNER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |