Now Sleeps the Crimson Petal
by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1847) — a poem card from Justes Mots
The whole still garden folding itself toward night, and one heart opening softly toward another.
Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;
Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font:
The firefly wakens: waken thou with me.
Now droops the milk-white peacock like a ghost,
And like a ghost she glimmers on to me.
Now lies the Earth all Danaë to the stars,…