YELLOW as the noonday sun,
Purple as a day that's done,
White as mist that lingers pale
On the edge of morning's veil,
Delicate as love's first kiss —
Crocuses are just like this.
Ere the robin paints his breast,
Ere the daffodil is drest,
Ere the iris’ lovely head
Waves above her perfumed bed
Comes the crocus — and the Spring
Follows after, wing on wing!
Sweet perfection, holding up
Magic dew in topaz cup,
Alabaster, amethyst —
Curling lips which Earth has kissed,
Folded hearts where secrets hide,
Secrets old when Eve was bride!
Beauty's soul was born with wings,
Flight inspires all lovely things —
Would you gather rainbow fire?
See the rose of dawn's desire
Turn to ash beneath the moon?—
Crocuses must leave us soon.