ADORATION
The wave loves the Iris-Flower
He winds his suppliant, tender
Arms round her moveless feet.
He winds his suppliant, tender
Arms round her moveless feet.
But she like a queen in armor
Stands slim and ardent and fragile
And lifts her face to the Sun.
Stands slim and ardent and fragile
And lifts her face to the Sun.
JEANNE AND A CITY GARDEN
Often I thought of Jeanne the Maiden
While I played in our garden all alone
Where a thousand-flowered honeysuckle
Climbed an old barn wall of creamy stone.
While I played in our garden all alone
Where a thousand-flowered honeysuckle
Climbed an old barn wall of creamy stone.
Jeanne in the oak-wood of Domremy,
Jeanne in her father's orchard-close
Hearing the sweet, unearthly Voices—
Oh, far and very far from those
Jeanne in her father's orchard-close
Hearing the sweet, unearthly Voices—
Oh, far and very far from those
Seemed the little girl with tangled elf-locks
In her knee-short frock of navy blue
Who read and dreamed of the Hero-Virgin
While the warm June days dragged slowly through.
In her knee-short frock of navy blue
Who read and dreamed of the Hero-Virgin
While the warm June days dragged slowly through.
But I thought the eyes that Jeanne had visioned
'Mid the dim oak-boughs of Domremy
Were looking down star-clear and tender
Through the dark leaves of our tulip-tree.
'Mid the dim oak-boughs of Domremy
Were looking down star-clear and tender
Through the dark leaves of our tulip-tree.
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