A rose of perfect red, embossed <br />With silver sheens of crystal frost, <br />Yet warm, nor life nor fragrance lost. <br /> <br />High passion throbbing in a sphere <br />That Art hath wrought of diamond clear, <br />-- A great heart beating in a tear. <br /> <br />The listening soul is full of dreams <br />That shape the wondrous-varying themes <br />As cries of men or plash of streams. <br /> <br />Or noise of summer rain-drops round <br />That patter daintily a-ground <br />With hints of heaven in the sound. <br /> <br />Or noble wind-tones chanting free <br />Through morning-skies across the sea <br />Wild hymns to some strange majesty. <br /> <br />O, if one trope, clear-cut and keen, <br />May type the art of Song's best queen, <br />White-hot of soul, white-chaste of mien, <br /> <br />On Music's heart doth Nilsson dwell <br />As if a Swedish snow-flake fell <br />Into a glowing flower-bell.<br /><br />Sidney Lanier<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/nilsson/
