Herewith I send you three pressed withered flowers: <br />This one was white, with golden star; this, blue <br />As Capri's cave; that, purple and shot through <br />With sunset-orange. Where the Duomo towers <br />In diamond air, and under pendent bowers <br />The Arno glides, this faded violet grew <br />On Landor's grave; from Landor's heart it drew <br />Its clouded azure in the long spring hours. <br />Within the shadow of the Pyramid <br />Of Cais Cestius was the daisy found, <br />White as the soul of Keats in Paradise. <br />The pansy - there were hundreds of them hid <br />In the thick grass that folded Shelley's mound, <br />Guarding his ashes with most lovely eyes.<br /><br />Thomas Bailey Aldrich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/with-three-flowers-2/
