Page:Poems & poèmes.djvu/27



Her flute's clear solo greets the maiden day — Above the waking of melodious May, Its notes are like a trellised flight of flowers.

The chirping birds whose orchestra of bills Accompanies rain—the tea-rose best distills — And then the smell of earth between the showers!

From garden bright, in drops of crystal gown'd, I hear the breezes make a leafy sound Through vibrant buzz of flies that seek the shade—

&hellip; And wonder whether—as sweet noon reposes— The roses make the air, the air the roses Within the house kept cooler than a glade.

Against the wall, upon the sunny side, Their fruitful branches fixed and crucified, The pear-trees stretch out arms in martyred line—