Columbines
Late were we sleeping
Deep in the mold,
Clasping and keeping
Yesterday’s gold—
Hoardings of sunshine,
Crimson and gold;
Dreaming of light till our dream became
Aureate bells and beakers of flame,—
Splashed with the splendor of wine of flame.
Raindrop awoke us;
Zephyr bespoke us;
Chick-a-dee called us,
Bobolink called us,—
Then we came.
Arthur Guiterman