  White lilies languish on their graceful stems, Red poppies laugh amid the growing corn; Lilies at poppies look with lofty scorn And cherish dear their own chaste diadems; Poppies at lilies scoff, their scarlet gems Blaze in the splendor of a life, love-born And love-begetting, and do most adorn Those whom love’s beauty unto death condemns. Lay the white blossoms on the lowly bier Of her who passed away, so pure and young,— Fling the red passion-poisoned flowers among Her syren-sisters who live sinning here. O! star-souled lily! white for none to blame. O! blood-stained poppy! red with blush of shame. |
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