The California Eschscholtzia

THE ORANGE hue of the rainbow

Is not so deep as thine;

More rich than a golden goblet

Influshing with sun-lit wine.

On its calyx of pink thy corolla

Catches sheen from the passing sun,

As if powder of pearls were dusted

And gleamed thy soft gold upon.

Of a truth, the dainty fay-maidens

Must have crimped thine edge so thin

Alike to some fairyland pattern,

On thy stamen for golden pin.

Deep down in the cup of thy petals

One spot of a purple stain,

Where the elves forgot in their revels

The last bright drop to drain.

As the scintillant dust of amber

In the sun does thy pollen shine;

Such powder Queen Mab might covet

To burnish her locks divine.

At dusk thou modestly closest

Thy petals with jealous fold;

All night thou cosily sleepest

In a tent of the cloth of gold.