Shapes of Clay - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 190

AN AUGURY.

Upon my desk a single spray, With starry blossoms fraught. I write in many an idle way, Thinking one serious thought. "O flowers, a fine Greek name ye bear, And with a fine Greek grace." Be still, O heart, that turns to share The sunshine of a face. "Have ye no messages—no brief, Still sign: 'Despair', or 'Hope'?" A sudden stir of stem and leaf— A breath of heliotrope!