White Iris

White Iris was a princess

In a kingdom long ago,

Mysterious as moonlight

And silent as the snow.

She drew the world in wonder

And swayed it with desire,

Ere Babylon was builded

Or a stone laid in Tyre.

Yet here within my garden

Her loveliness appears,

Undimmed by any sorrow

Of all the tragic years.

How kind that earth should treasure

So beautiful a thing —

All mystical enchantment,

To stir our hearts in spring!