My dreams are belated orioles
That flee the mournful mists
To find, in the heaven of thy soul,
The lost summer and the balsam
Of all the fugitive flowerings.
My dreams are dying flowers,
But ever their fragrant lives
Mount toward the altar of thy heart
In a soft and heatless air
Where indolent clouds are bom.
My dreams are olden songs
Sung on a clouded evening,
That mount among the petals
Of pale and perfumed roses
Falling at thy shadowy shutters.
A Madrigal
Clark Ashton Smith
(1)
Poem topics: heart, heaven, lost, summer, evening, soul, soft, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about A Madrigal poem by Clark Ashton Smith
Best Poems of Clark Ashton Smith