Читать книгу The Lions' Gate and Other Verses - Lily Alice Cooke Lefevre - Страница 8

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As in some Eastern clime when shadows steal

Into a fragrant room where all day long

The dark eyed maidens thread the shining pearls

With jests and merry laughter, one may cry

“Mine shall be necklet for a Queen, behold!”

Lifting with fair round arm its lustrous length

Against the crimson sky,—yet soon rejoice

To find a brighter, purer cluster still

And dreaming o’er their beauty let them fall

Each separate along the silken thread,

With soft caress of rosy finger-tips

That linger at the last,—so smiling stands

Rich Autumn counting o’er her treasured hours,

And slowly dropping from reluctant hands

Down the long-swaying misty strands of Time

The dreamy splendor of these days divine.