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NOVEMBER
PANSY
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| THIS
is not June,—by Autumn's stratagem |
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Thou
hast been ambushed in the chilly air;
Upon thy fragile crest virginal fair |
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| The
rime has clustered in a diadem; |
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The
early frost |
5 |
| Has
nipped thy roots and tried thy tender stem, |
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Seared
thy gold petals, all thy charm is lost.
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| THYSELF
the only sunshine: in obeying |
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The
law that bids thee blossom in the world
Thy little flag of courage is unfurled; |
10 |
| Inherent
pansy-memories are saying |
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That
there is sun, |
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| That
there is dew and colour and warmth repaying |
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The
rain, the starlight when the light is done.
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| THESE
are the gaunt forms of the hollyhocks |
15 |
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That
shower the seeds from out their withered purses;
Here were the pinks; there the nasturtium nurses |
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| The
last of colour in her gaudy smocks; |
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The
ruins yonder |
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| Show
but a vestige of the flaming phlox; |
20 |
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The
poppies on their faded glory ponder.
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| HERE
visited the vagrant humming-bird, |
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The
nebulous darting green, the ruby-throated;
The warm fans of the butterfly here floated; |
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| Those
two nests reared the robins, and the third |
25 |
| |
Was
left forlorn |
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| Muffled
in lilacs, whence the perfume stirred |
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The
tremulous eyelids of the dewy morn.
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| THY
sisters of the early summer-time |
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Were
masquers in this carnival of pleasure;
Each in her turn unrolled her golden treasure, |
30 |
| And
thou hast but the ashes of the prime; |
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’Tis
life's own malice |
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| That
brings the peasant of a race sublime |
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To feed her flock around her ruined palace.
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35 |
YET for withstanding thus the autumn's dart
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Some
deeper pansy-insight will atone;
It comes to souls neglected and alone, |
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| Something
that prodigals in pleasure's mart |
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Lose
in the whirl; |
40 |
| The
peasant child will have a purer heart |
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Than
the vain favorite of the vanished earl.
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| AND
far above this tragic world of ours |
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There
is a world of a diviner fashion,
A mystic world, a world of dreams and passion |
45 |
| That
each aspiring thing creates and dowers |
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With
its own light; |
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| Where
even the frail spirits of trees and flowers |
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Pause,
and reach out, and pass from height to height.
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| HERE
will we claim for thee another fief, |
50 |
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An upland
where a glamour haunts the meadows,
Snow peaks arise enrobed in rosy shadows, |
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| Fairer
the under slopes with vine and sheaf |
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And
shimmering lea; |
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| The
paradise of a simple old belief, |
55 |
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That
flourished in the Islands of the Sea.
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| A
SNOW-COOL cistern in the fairy hills |
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Shall
feed thy roots with moisture clear as dew;
A ferny shield to temper the warm blue |
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| That
heaven is; a thrush that thrills |
60 |
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To answer
his mate, |
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| And
when above the ferns the shadow fills, |
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Fireflies
to render darkness consolate.
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| HERE
muse and brood, moulding thy seed and die |
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And
re-create thy form a thousand fold,
Mellowing thy petals to more lucent gold, |
65 |
| Till
they expand, tissues of amber sky; |
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Till
the full hour, |
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| And
the full light and the fulfilling eye |
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Shall
find amid the ferns the perfect flower. |
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