For him who with a patient reverence
Has waited, to unfold with lovely grace
The royal petals; and it droops and dies
Before the garish day has ushered in
Again the curious crowd.
This woman’s soul
Was not so snowy in its purity,
And not so keen in its fine instincts; nay,
But tinted with all splendid hues, intense
With high enthusiasms, and yet indeed