In all the clouds he sees her light robes trail, And roses seem beholden to her face; O'er scented balustrade the scented gale Blows warm from Spring, and dew-drops form apace. Her outline on the mountain he can trace, Now leans she from the tower in moonlight pale. A flower-girt branch grows sweeter from the dew. A spirit of snow and rain unheeded calls. Who wakes to memory in these palace walls? Fei-yen! -- but in the robes an Empress knew. The most renowned of blossoms, most divine Of those whose conquering glances overthrow Cities and kingdoms, for his sake combine And win the ready smiles that ever flow From royal lips. What matter if the snow Blot out the garden? She shall still recline Upon the scented balustrade and glow With spring that thrills her warm blood into wine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CITY VIGNETTE: DAWN by SARA TEASDALE AT CASTLE WOOD by EMILY JANE BRONTE TO LIZBIE BROWNE by THOMAS HARDY THE COUNTY OF MAYO by THOMAS LAVELLE NATURAL HISTORY by MOTHER GOOSE THE RIVER DUDDON: SONNET 34. AFTER-THOUGHT by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |