The flaunting golden-rod
Has lost her worldly mood,
She’s given herself to God,
And taken a nun’s hood.
The wild and wanton horde,
That kept the summer revel,
Have taken the serge and cord,
And given the slip to the Devil.
The winter’s loose somewhere,
Gathering snow for a fight;
From the feel of the air
I think it will freeze to-night.
THE SLEEPER
Touched with some divine repose,
Isabelle has fallen asleep,
Like the perfume from the rose
In and out her breathings creep.
Dewy are her rosy palms,
In her cheek the flushes flit,
And a dream her spirit calms
With the pleasant thought of it.
All the rounded heavens show
Like the concave of a pearl,
Stars amid the opal glow
Little fronds of flame unfurl.
Then upfloats a planet strange,
Not the moon that mortals know,
With a magic mountain range,
Cones and craters white as snow;
Something different yet the same—
Rain by rainbows glorified,
Roses lit with lambent flame—
’Tis the maid moon’s other side.