Shy perfect pearl-white flower, blooming alone
In northern woods where snow has sown
Its myriad seed—shy perfect flower,
Fragrant, alone—
Your dark leaves cluster close to hide you the more.
I part them and remember bright poppies on the plain.
They run in the wind, a ragged gypsy train;
They fling themselves at the feet of the golden grain—
When it is slain they too are slain.
Their life is a cry! Their life is a sudden scarlet stain!
Their dream-mark seeds have fearful power.
And you, shy perfect pearl-white flower?