Page:The Poems of Oscar Wilde.pdf/57

 And pluck that amorous flower which blooms alone,

Fed by the pander wind with dust of kisses not its own.

The trumpet-mouths of red convolvulus

So dear to maidens, creamy meadow-sweet

Whiter than Juno's throat and odorous

As all Arabia, hyacinths the feet

Of Huntress Dian would be loth to mar

For any dappled fawn,—pluck these, and those fond flowers which are

Fairer than what Queen Venus trod upon

Beneath the pines of Ida, eucharis,

That morning star which does not dread the sun,

And budding marjoram which but to kiss

Would sweeten Cytheræa's lips and make

Adonis jealous,—these for thy head,—and for thy girdle take

Yon curving spray of purple clematis

Whose gorgeous dye outflames the Tyrian King,

And foxgloves with their nodding chalices,

But that one narciss which the startled Spring

Let from her kirtle fall when first she heard

In her own woods the wild tempestuous song of summer's bird, 43