And in the warm hedge grew lush eglantine,
Green cowbind and the moonlight-color’d May,
And cherry blossoms, and white cups, whose wine
Was the bright dew yet drain’d not by the day;
And wild roses, and ivy serpentine,
With its dark buds and leaves, wandering astray,
And flowers azure, black, and streak’d with gold;
Fairer than any waken’d eyes behold.
And nearer to the river’s trembling edge
There grew broad flag-flowers, purple prankt with white,