LOTUS flowers clustering
Round your feet in storeys laid,
Splendid daughter of a King.
In a graven vase of Ming
Peaches, apricots of jade,
Lotus flowers clustering,
All their scentless riches bring,
All around your throne displayed,
Costly daughter of a King.
What young prince astonishing
Rides along the inky glade,
Lotus flowers clustering
Round his camel travelling?
See the leopards unafraid,
Slender daughter of a King!
Coromandel picturing,
Strangely, marvellously made.
Lotus flowers clustering,
Nightingales that cannot sing,
What celestial escapade
Are they nightly witnessing,
Through lotus flowers clustering,
O subtle daughter of a King?
COLOUR
IN the last orgy of Creation’s hour,
—That fabled day, when all to sudden birth
Sprang,—as the toy of his redundant mirth
God tossed in bounty Colour to the earth.
He held the exquisite and pallid flower,
Spoke new strange words, and in his hands there blushed
The great white rose to crimson slowly flushed.