.traceyrn

gallery

As I watch them, in serene array, And muse, while scenting their delicious balm, Of how they burst from soilure and decay, In taintlessness of alabaster calm, And blossoming from this grim half-stagnant lake, What sweet pure incongruity they make, I dream of gloomy soulds within whose deeps. Crawls many a cold uncanny reptile thought; Where black hate lurks and torpid envy sleeps, And yet wherin some saving grace has wrought Some heavenly touch that all their darkness dowers With the chaste charm of these immaculate flowers. An exert from Edgar Fawcett's poem water lillies.