Like the last green in crucibles of dyes, these arid leaves are, rough and dull and old, behind the clustered flowers, that do not hold their blue, but catch a far blue, mirror-wise. Vaguely reflected, all but wept away, as though it might be lost if they should stir, and as in time-worn pale blue note-paper it melts to yellow, violet and grey; washed out like a child's apron, short and sheer, no longer worn, removed from jeopardy: one feels how brief a little life is, here. Yet in one cluster the soft blue is seen renewed, and one beholds, all breathlessly, a touching blue rejoicing in the green. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HYMN TO ADVERSITY by THOMAS GRAY RESIGNATION by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW WISTFULNESS by KATHARINE ADAMS TO THE SOLITUDE OF FONTENAY by GUILLAUME AMFRYE CALAIS SANDS by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE PRE-ADAMITE WORLD by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |