The Gladioles

As tall as the lily, as rich as the rose,
And deep as the bloom of the hollyhock,
They lift their blossoms in furbelows
Of flame that the warm winds rock.

And some are red as the humming-bird's throat,
And some are pied as the butterfly's wings,
And each is shaped like an elfin coat,
Or a goblin cap that swings.

Freaked with fire or red as blood,
They nod at me in my garden old,
Each flower a pixy helm or hood,
Lace-lined with fairyland gold.

For you know the goblins that come at dusk,--
Whose firefly eyes you have seen,--each one,
(When is sprinkled the dew and scattered the musk,)
Hangs here his cap when done.