S. FRANCES HARRISON
VILLANELLE
SPRUNG from a sword-sheath fit for Mars,
Straight and sharp, of a gay glad green,
My jonquil lifts its yellow stars.
Barter, would I, for the dross of the Czars,
These golden flowers and buds fifteen,
Sprung from a sword-sheath fit for Mars?
Barter, would you, these scimitars,