THE snow dies, that was cold as coral, Or a fairy-story's moral, And birds put forth their song's soft flowers In the thickets and the bowers. Salome walks the lands . . . the quaint Flowers crisp as snow, and youthful, feint To watch from Heaven's palaces, With footsteps soft as calices The angels come as pages, show Salome how to touch the low Lute-notes and dance the sarabande, Leading the Princess by the hand, Until Salome's nurse appears, Harsh as the snow; with shivering fears The angels go again, discern Their's is no dance that she must learn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ROME. AT THE PYRAMID OF CESTIUS NEAR THE GRAVES OF SHELLEY by THOMAS HARDY ALBERT SIDNEY JOHNSTON [APRIL 6, 1862] by KATE BROWNLEE SHERWOOD SONNET: 16 by RICHARD BARNFIELD THE DYING DRAGOMAN by MATHILDE BLIND ON MR. FREDERICK PORTER'S ROOM OF PICTURES, 1930 by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |