Poems (Blagden)/Wild flowers
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WILD FLOWERS.
Pale apple-blossoms and red flowers,
Anemones and tulips tall,
Which light with flaming torch the showers
Of slim green leaves which round them fall,
Anemones and tulips tall,
Which light with flaming torch the showers
Of slim green leaves which round them fall,
Are smiling here, and through the rift
Of vanished years what thoughts arise,
As on each glowing bud I lift,
Dazzled and dim, my wearied eyes.
Of vanished years what thoughts arise,
As on each glowing bud I lift,
Dazzled and dim, my wearied eyes.
The sweet-brier fragrance of your youth,
A wild, free blossom, tender, pure,
Yet rich with promise (such in truth,
Ever, to raciest fruit, mature).
A wild, free blossom, tender, pure,
Yet rich with promise (such in truth,
Ever, to raciest fruit, mature).
The glory of our Tuscan spring,
Transparent, warm, with bloom divine,
From leaf and flower and vines which cling
From tree to tree with tendrils fine.
Transparent, warm, with bloom divine,
From leaf and flower and vines which cling
From tree to tree with tendrils fine.
The teeming splendour of our plain,
A sea of verdure lost in blue;
Our curving hills, the ripening grain,
With fireflies glittering through and through:
A sea of verdure lost in blue;
Our curving hills, the ripening grain,
With fireflies glittering through and through:
Our old tower[1] whence the owls would call
Oft and again their one sweet note;
The wealth of roses on our wall,
By summer, spring, and autumn brought:
Oft and again their one sweet note;
The wealth of roses on our wall,
By summer, spring, and autumn brought:
All in this pictured panel lives,
And like a charm unseals my eyes;
A spell divine a fairy weaves,
To clothe the earth with rainbow dyes.
And like a charm unseals my eyes;
A spell divine a fairy weaves,
To clothe the earth with rainbow dyes.
The moonlight and the sunlight clear,
The hope, the joy which nature wore,
Life, youth, and passion, all are here,
And Italy is mine once more.
The hope, the joy which nature wore,
Life, youth, and passion, all are here,
And Italy is mine once more.
- ↑ Hawthorne lived for three months at the Tower of Montauto, Bellosguardo, and there began "Transformation."