Page:Verses–Blanche·Baughan-1898.pdf/77

 My room has bare white walls —So, if a daffodil Is yellow, in my room She shows quite yellow still.

To give each thought full scope And every fact its due, Perhaps the mind of man Should go uncolour’d too?

This gusty morning comes with gifts Of music to my room: She bids the Wind to ring in the roof, And in the chimney boom;

She marshals thick at my window-pane The reedy Raindrop choir; And calls for wood, to whistle the songs Of last year to the fire;