Poised in a sheeny mist

Of the dust of bloom,

Clasped to the poppy's breast and kissed,

Baptized in pools of violet perfume

From foot to plume!

Zephyr loves thy wings

Above all lovable things,

And brings them gifts with rapturous murmurings:

Thine is the golden reach of blooming hours,

Spirit of flowers!

Music follows thee,

And, continually,

Thy life is changed and sweetened happily,

Having no more than rose-leaf shade of gloom,

O bird of Bloom!

Thou art a winged thought

Of tropical hours,

With all the tropic's rare bloom-splendor fraught,

Surcharged with Beauty's indefinable powers,

Angel of flowers!