The Yucca
The glamour flower doth bloom again:
The flower of which the Moon is fain.
Down the long border, in the night,
Glides the Moon-maiden, faintly white.
Under the yuccas I saw her stand,
Resting a cheek on a slender hand.
The great white blossoms shone and shone
A moment more-the dream has flown.
O Yucca! Flower of mystery!
How the Moon-maiden loveth thee!
Long, long ago, e'er the world was old,
When the sad Moon, felt she was turning cold,
Down to the earth her flower she sent;
Pearl bloom and tear-drop lustre blent:
And now when they bloom in the border there,
The Moon-maid floats from her home so bare.
In one garden a space to weep
While yearning fancies invest our sleep.
'T is the saddest, the sweetest day o' the year,
For in every cup I have found a tear,—
A tear that smiles with a tender light:
And I know who shed them, yesternight.
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