Paradise Fancies
They plucked it once to play at ball,
But 'mid the shouts and laughter
The apple fell o'er Heaven's edge,
Sad angels looking after.
And while they smiled to see it rest
Beside a peaceful chapel,
An old priest flung it farther still,
" Bah, what a battered apple!"
iii.
Sing, oh the flowers in Paradise:
Rose, lily and girasole!
In all the fields of Paradise
Every flower is a soul.
A climbing bindweed you are there
With petals lily-fine.
Around my rose-bush pink and fair
Your curling tendrils twine.
Too close those slender tendrils cling.
So close I cannot breathe!
Till o'er my dead red roses swing,
Your lilies wreath on wreath.
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