I walked through a Forest, beneath the hot noon, <br />On Etheline calling and calling! <br />One said: “She will hear you and come to you soon, <br />When the coolness, my brother, is falling.” <br />But I whispered: “O Darling, I falter with pain!” <br />And the thirsty leaves rustled, and hissed for the rain, <br />Where a wayfarer halted and slept on the plain; <br /> And dreamt of a garden of Roses! <br /> Of a cool sweet place, <br /> And a nestling face <br /> In a dance and a dazzle of Roses. <br />In the drought of a Desert, outwearied, I wept, <br />O Etheline, darkened with dolours! <br />But, folded in sunset, how long have you slept <br />By the Roses all reeling with colours? <br />A tree from its tresses a blossom did shake, <br />It fell on her face, and I feared she would wake, <br />So I brushed it away for her sweet sake; <br /> In that garden of beautiful Roses! <br /> In the dreamy perfumes <br /> From ripe-red blooms <br /> In a dance and a dazzle of Roses.<br /><br />Henry Kendall<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/amongst-the-roses/
