| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (18331908). An American Anthology, 17871900. 1900. |
| |
| 1148. Tuberose |
| | | By Louis James Block |
| |
| |
| FLOWER, that I hold in my hand, | |
| Waxen and white and unwoful, | |
| Perfect with your races lovely perfection, | |
| Pure as the dream of a child just descended from the heavens, | |
| Chaste as the thought of the maid on whose sight first shines the glow of loves planet, | 5 |
| Trustful as a boy who holds the world in hands of power unrelaxing, | |
| Flower, graceful, lovely, | |
| Lo! I give you to the waves that roll across the oceans expanses. | |
| |
| I watch you like a star on the waters, | |
| I watch you floating away in the distance; | 10 |
| The ocean gives you reception and dwelling, | |
| The ocean with the sweep of its world-encircling currents, | |
| With its storms and winds, | |
| Mutable home where all is each and each is other. | |
| |
| You show no signs of terror, | 15 |
| You float to the mid-most whirlpool, | |
| You are made one with the unending streams, | |
| The moon and stars are reflected in your changed bosom, | |
| The measureless winds enfold you with love as a garment. | |
| Night and day and time are contained in your embraces, | 20 |
| Clouds emerge from your heart and return, | |
| Life and death are as slender ripples across your central calmness, | |
| Hope and wishing and longing and tumult are over, | |
| Unto the all, your cradle and grave, your father-mother, | |
| You have returned, | 25 |
| O flower transfigured! | |
| O flower having reached your fruition! | |
| |
|
|
|