Elinor Morton Wylie (7 September 1885 – 16 December 1928 / Somerville, New Jersey)
Why should this Negro insolently stride
Down the red noonday on such noiseless feet?
Piled in his barrow, tawnier than wheat,
Lie heaps of smouldering daisies, sombre-eyed,
Their copper petals shriveled up with pride,
Hot with a superfluity of heat,
Like a great brazier borne along the street
By captive leopards, black and burning pied.
Are there no water-lilies, smooth as cream,
With long stems dripping crystal? Are there none
Like those white lilies, luminous and cool,
Plucked from some hemlock-darkened northern stream
By fair-haired swimmers, diving where the sun
Scarce warms the surface of the deepest pool?
Elinor Morton Wylie's Other Poems
- A Crowded Trolley-Car
- A Proud Lady
- Bells in the Rain
- Blood Feud
- Bronze Trumpets and Sea Water - On Turni...
- Cold-Blooded Creatures
- Curious Circumstance
- Death and the Maiden
- 'Fire and Sleet and Candlelight'
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