Plump and oozing, the rosebuds wet
Doused in full shot, with doubled red
To rouse gaiety and flare of lamps
Cupped in single flower-folds and wrapped
Close to the heart, carrying beloved babes
By sovereign arms giving all embrace;
When guarded under family love and conclave,
Against the long-sheltering stone of a grave.

The scattered meadow, like a sun-filtered dam
Tidy placid area, where exchanged winds ran
Odour and resurrection of fair clef;
Row burgeoning in panoply conferring,
Dead silence bidden by the whirl wind
That almost dropped a spirit up the trees.