Flowers of Fire

In ages past, since Chaos' mighty throes,
This crater's pit its flaming brood unchained,
Till grandly lone its fiery plume attained
A loftier height than Chimborazo knows.

Yet Silence here with muffled footstep goes,
The bird now slakes his thirst where cinders rained,
While earth's congealed blood, lava, has constrained
The soil to deep, inviolate repose.

Yet,—act supreme of fire in time of old,—
Within the crater's mouth forever cold,
Making the comminuted rocks to glow,

Like peal of thunder in the silence rolled,
Standing in pollen dust of powdered gold,
The flame-born cactus opes its gorgeous blow.