Page:Ethel Churchill Fragments II.pdf/21



There was a feast that night, And coloured lamps sent forth their odorous light Over gold carvings, and the purple fall Of tapestry; and around each stately hall Were statues pale, and delicate, and fair, As all of beauty, save her blush, were there; And, like light clouds floating around each room, The censers sent their breathings of perfume; And scented waters mingled with the breath Of flowers that died as they rejoiced in death. The tulip, with its globe of rainbow light; The red rose, as it languished with delight; The bride-like hyacinth, drooping as with shame, And the anemone, whose cheek of flame Is golden, as it were the flower the sun, In his noon hour, most loved to look upon. At first the pillared halls were still and lone, As if some fairy palace, all unknown To mortal eye or step:—this was not long— Wakened the lutes, and rose the sound of song; And the wide mirrors glittered with the crowd Of changing shapes: the young, the fair, the proud, Came thronging in.