Dawn
On skies still and starlit
White lustres take hold,
And grey flushes scarlet,
And red flashes gold.
And sun-glories cover
The rose shed above her,
Like lover and lover
They flame and unfold.
- - - - -
Still bloom in the garden
Green grass-plot, fresh lawn,
Though pasture lands harden
And drought fissures yawn.
While leaves not a few fall,
Let rose leaves for you fall,
Leaves pearl-strung with dew-fall,
And gold shot with dawn.
Does the grass-plot remember
The fall of your feet
In autumns red ember,
When drought leagues with heat,
When the last of the roses
Despairingly closes
In the lull that reposes
Ere storm winds wax fleet?
Loves melodies languish
In Chastelards strain,
And Abelards anguish
Is loves pleasant pain!
And Sappho rehearses
Loves blessings and curses
In passionate verses
Again and again.
And I! I have heard of
All these long ago,
Yet never one word of
Their song-lore I know;
Not under my finger
In songs of the singer
Loves litanies linger,
Loves rhapsodies flow.
Fresh flowers in a basket,
An offering to you,
Though you did not ask it,
Unbidden I strew;
With heat and drought striving,
Some blossoms still living
May render thanksgiving
For dawn and for dew.
The garlands I gather,
The rhymes I string fast,
Are hurriedly rather
Than heedlessly cast.
Yon trees shady awning
Is shortning, and warning
Far spent is the morning,
And I must ride fast.
Songs empty, yet airy,
Ive striven to write,
For failure, dear Mary!
Forgive me, Good-night!
Songs and flowers may beset you,
I can only regret you,
While the soil where I met you
Recedes from my sight.
For the sake of past hours,
For the love of old times,
Take A Basket of Flowers,
And a bundle of rhymes;
Though all the bloom perish
Een YOUR hand can cherish,
While churlish and bearish
The verse-jingle chimes.
And Eastward by Norward
Looms sadly my track,
And I must ride forward,
And still I look back,
Look back, ah, how vainly!
For while I see plainly,
My hands on the reins lie
Uncertain and slack.
The warm wind breathes strong breath,
The dust dims mine eye,
And I draw one long breath,
And stifle one sigh.
Green slopes, softly shaded,
Have flitted and faded,
My dreams flit as they did,
Good-night! and, Good-bye!
- - - - -
Dusk
Lost rose! end my story!
Dead core and dry husk,
Departed thy glory
And tainted thy musk.
Night spreads her dark limbs on
The face of the dim sun,
So flame fades to crimson
And crimson to dusk.
A Basket Of Flowers - From Dawn To Dusk
Adam Lindsay Gordon
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