Thomas Bailey Aldrich

When I behold what pleasure is Pursuit,
What life, what glorious eagerness it is,
Then mark how read more

When I behold what pleasure is Pursuit,
What life, what glorious eagerness it is,
Then mark how full Possession falls from this,
How fairer seems the blossom than the fruit,--
I am perplext, and often stricken mute.
Wondering which attained the higher bliss,
The wing'd insect, or the chrysalis
It thrust aside with unreluctant foot.

Day is a snow-white Dove of heaven
That from the East glad message brings.

Day is a snow-white Dove of heaven
That from the East glad message brings.

When the Sultan Shah-Zaman
Goes to the city Ispahan,
Even before he gets so far
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When the Sultan Shah-Zaman
Goes to the city Ispahan,
Even before he gets so far
As the place where the clustered palm-trees are,
At the last of the thirty palace-gates
The pet of the harem, Rose-in-Bloom,
Orders a feast in his favorite room--
Glittering square of colored ice,
Sweetened with syrup, tinctured with spice,
Creams, and cordials, and sugared dates,
Syrian apples, Othmanee quinces,
Limes and citrons and apricots,
And wines that are known to Eastern princes.

These Winter nights against my window-pane
Nature with busy pencil draws designs
Of ferns and blossoms and read more

These Winter nights against my window-pane
Nature with busy pencil draws designs
Of ferns and blossoms and fine spray of pines,
Oak-leaf and acorn and fantastic vines,
Which she will make when summer comes again--
Quaint arabesques in argent, flat and cold,
Like curious Chinese etchings.

I like not lady-slippers,
Not yet the sweet-pea blossoms,
Not yet the flaky roses,
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I like not lady-slippers,
Not yet the sweet-pea blossoms,
Not yet the flaky roses,
Red or white as snow;
I like the chaliced lilies,
The heavy Eastern lilies,
The gorgeous tiger-lilies,
That in our garden grow.