At Glan-y-Wern

White-robed against the threefold white

Of shutter, glass and curtains' lace,

She flashed into the evening light

The brilliance of her gipsy face:

I saw the evening in her light.

Clear, from the soft hair to the mouth,

Her ardent face made manifest

The sultry beauty of the South:

Below, a red rose, climbing, pressed

Against the roses of her mouth.

So, in the window's threefold white,

O'ertrailed with foliage like a bower,

She seemed, against the evening light,

Amongst the flowers herself a flower,

A tiger-lily sheathed in white.