WAITING AT THE PARTY.
The lamp-flowers wreathe the walls below,
And drop their tremulous golden bloom
On gem and smile—and I must go
From this dim, lonesome room.
And drop their tremulous golden bloom
On gem and smile—and I must go
From this dim, lonesome room.
It is not long;—but oh, it seems,
Since those bright girls went down the stair
I've crossed a thousand years of dreams,
And landed everywhere.
Since those bright girls went down the stair
I've crossed a thousand years of dreams,
And landed everywhere.
In tropic palms I've caught strange birds
With summer painted on their plumes;
I've feigned the south wind's music-words
To woo his wild-rose blooms.
With summer painted on their plumes;
I've feigned the south wind's music-words
To woo his wild-rose blooms.
I've watched great mirage-buds break through
Their sand-leaves in red desert-noons;
And gathered pearly bells and blue
By pallid northern moons.
Their sand-leaves in red desert-noons;
And gathered pearly bells and blue
By pallid northern moons.
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