Читать книгу Collected Poems: Volume One - Alfred Noyes - Страница 33

Like the dawn upon a dream

Slowly through the scented gloom

Crept once more the ruddy gleam

O'er the friendly nursery room.

There, before our waking eyes,

Large and ghostly, white and dim,

Dreamed the Flower that never dies,

Opening wide its rosy rim.

Spreading like a ghostly fan,

Petals white as porcelain,

There the Flower of Old Japan

Told us we were home again;

For a soft and curious light

Suddenly was o'er it shed.

And we saw it was a white

English daisy, ringed with red.

Slowly, as a wavering mist

Waned the wonder out of sight,

To a sigh of amethyst,

To a wraith of scented light.

Flower and magic glass had gone;

Near the clutching fire we sat

Dreaming, dreaming, all alone,

Each upon a furry mat.

While the firelight, red and clear,

Fluttered in the black wet pane,

It was very good to hear

Howling winds and trotting rain.

For we found at last we knew

More than all our fancy planned,

All the fairy tales were true,

And home the heart of fairyland.