POETRY.
THE GARDEN FOUNTAIN. Fon my delight comes dipping wing About your shallows fluttering. Where, fearless, on the mossy brink The blackbird dips his bill to drink. The sun for my delight shall part The casket of your lily's heart, Open the folded white For my delight.
And when the burnished noon has come, And all my garden-choir is dumb, When dipping wing has sought the leaves And shadow of the jasmined eaves, Then sudden—from a brassy sky A meteor-flash. A dragon-fly Shall on the edge alight For my delight.
When eve shall peer with slanting rays Down the sequestered garden-ways, Your constant voice shall call me still To learn the secrets of the bill, Of hidden sources whence you slip To babble at the marble's lip, And drop your crystal bright For my delight. MARNA PP.ASE.
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