Now folds the Tree of Day its perfect flowers, <br />And every bloom becomes a bud again, <br />Shut and sealed up against the golden showers <br />Of bees that hover in the velvet hours.... <br /> Now a strain <br />Wild and mournful blown from shadow towers, <br />Echoed from shadow ships upon the foam, <br />Proclaims the Queen of Night. <br /> From their bowers <br />The dark Princess fluttering, wing their flight <br />To their old Mother, in her huge old home.<br /><br />Katherine Mansfield<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fairy-tale-2-2/
