Adam Lindsay Gordon - A Basket of FlowersAdam Lindsay Gordon - A Basket of Flowers
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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 autumn`s 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?
Love`s melodies languish
In "Chastelard`s" strain,
And "Abelard`s" anguish
Is love`s pleasant pain!
And "Sappho" rehearses
Love`s 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
Love`s litanies linger,
Love`s 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 tree`s shady awning
Is short`ning, and warning
Far spent is the morning,
And I must ride fast.
Songs empty, yet airy,
I`ve 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
E`en YOUR hand can cherish,
While churlish and bearish
The verse-jingle chimes.
And Eastward by Nor`ward
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.
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