Purple
Vividly gloomy, with bright darkling glows
Of fine stars, or night-sparkling southern shores;
Stain of strong fruits, wines, passions, and the cores
Of all quick hearts. Yet from its deepness blows
Aroma and romance of violets;
Softness of far land, lost; pacific lift
Of smoke through quiet trees; and that wild drift
Of smoulder where the flame of evening sets.
Yea, that columnar, thunder-throning cloud
Wears it so stately that therein the King
Stands before men, and lies in death's hands, proud.
Purest, it is a diamond dawn of Spring,
And yet the Veil of Venus and youth's skin
Mauve-marbled; purpling young Love's mouth for sacred sin.
Of fine stars, or night-sparkling southern shores;
Stain of strong fruits, wines, passions, and the cores
Of all quick hearts. Yet from its deepness blows
Aroma and romance of violets;
Softness of far land, lost; pacific lift
Of smoke through quiet trees; and that wild drift
Of smoulder where the flame of evening sets.
Yea, that columnar, thunder-throning cloud
Wears it so stately that therein the King
Stands before men, and lies in death's hands, proud.
Purest, it is a diamond dawn of Spring,
And yet the Veil of Venus and youth's skin
Mauve-marbled; purpling young Love's mouth for sacred sin.
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