Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.
By Craven LangstrothBetts1116 The Hollyhocks
S
I sauntered down the shadowed lawn;
It was the hour when sluggards doze,
The cheerful, zephyr-breathing dawn.
The sun had not yet bathed his face,
Dark reddened from the night’s carouse,
When, lo! in festive gypsy grace
The hollyhocks stood nodding brows.
That fine, trim band of frolic blades;
Their ruffles, pinked and purfled fair,
Flamed with their riotous rainbow shades.
They whispered light each comrade’s ears,
They flirted with the wooing breeze;
The grassy army’s stanchest spears
Rose merely to their stalwart knees!
They were so royal tall to see;
No high-placed rivals need they fear,
All flowers paid them fealty.
The haughtiest wild rose standing near
Their girdles hardly might attain;
They glowed, the courtiers of a year,
Blithe pages in the Summer’s train!
So jocund and so saucy free;
Gay vagrants, Flora’s bravest born,
They brightened all the emerald lea.
I said: “Glad hearts, the crabbed frost
Will soon your sun-dyed glories blight;
No evil eye your pride has crossed,
You know not the designs of night.
It is in vain you bloom so free;
While you are flaunting in the glades
The gale may wreck your wanton glee.”
They shook their silken frills in scorn,
And to my warning seemed to say,
“Dull rhymester, look! ’t is summer morn,
And round us is the court of Day!”