A WOOD FANCY
Themandrakes lift, like little mosques,Their domes between the vines,And butterflies for worshipersAre flocking to their shrines.And from tall, tapering mullein towersAnd minarets of green,The honey-bee muezzins droneTo bloodroot buds between,That pilgrim-wise along the roadCome trooping to the light,In pale green caftans closely woundAnd turbans spotless white.While all the way with budding thingsIs tufted thicker thanThe praying mats the Persian weavesIn streets of Ispahan.And listen! with a lordly noteLike joyous burst of drums,In gorgeous gown of gold and blackThe oriole sultan comes!
Themandrakes lift, like little mosques,Their domes between the vines,And butterflies for worshipersAre flocking to their shrines.And from tall, tapering mullein towersAnd minarets of green,The honey-bee muezzins droneTo bloodroot buds between,That pilgrim-wise along the roadCome trooping to the light,In pale green caftans closely woundAnd turbans spotless white.While all the way with budding thingsIs tufted thicker thanThe praying mats the Persian weavesIn streets of Ispahan.And listen! with a lordly noteLike joyous burst of drums,In gorgeous gown of gold and blackThe oriole sultan comes!
Themandrakes lift, like little mosques,Their domes between the vines,And butterflies for worshipersAre flocking to their shrines.
Themandrakes lift, like little mosques,
Their domes between the vines,
And butterflies for worshipers
Are flocking to their shrines.
And from tall, tapering mullein towersAnd minarets of green,The honey-bee muezzins droneTo bloodroot buds between,
And from tall, tapering mullein towers
And minarets of green,
The honey-bee muezzins drone
To bloodroot buds between,
That pilgrim-wise along the roadCome trooping to the light,In pale green caftans closely woundAnd turbans spotless white.
That pilgrim-wise along the road
Come trooping to the light,
In pale green caftans closely wound
And turbans spotless white.
While all the way with budding thingsIs tufted thicker thanThe praying mats the Persian weavesIn streets of Ispahan.
While all the way with budding things
Is tufted thicker than
The praying mats the Persian weaves
In streets of Ispahan.
And listen! with a lordly noteLike joyous burst of drums,In gorgeous gown of gold and blackThe oriole sultan comes!
And listen! with a lordly note
Like joyous burst of drums,
In gorgeous gown of gold and black
The oriole sultan comes!