Explore "A Twilight Moth" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
/ Dusk is thy dawn; when Eve puts on its state / Of gold and purple in the marbled west, / Thou comest forth like some embodied trait, / Or dim conceit, a lily bud confessed; / Or of a rose the visible wish; that, white, / Goes softly messengering through the night, / Whom each expectant flower makes its guest.
/ All day the primroses have thought of thee, / Their golden heads close-haremed from the heat; / All day the mystic moonflowers silkenly / Veiled snowy faces, -- that no bee might greet, / Or butterfly that, weighed with pollen, passed; -- / Keeping Sultana charms for thee, at last, / Their lord, who comest to salute each sweet.