54 Tall Bearded Iris 



Or cold or warm, his native skies 

 Bend in their beauty o'er him; 

 Seen through the tear-mist in his eyes, 

 His loved ones stand before him. 



As fades the Iris after rain 

 In April's tearful weather, 

 The vision vanished, as the strain 

 And daylight died together. 



/. R. Thompson: Music in Camp 



Far away under skies of blue, 

 In the pleasant land beyond the sea, 

 Bathed with sunlight and washed with dew, 

 Budded and bloomed the Fleur-de-lis. 



Through mists of morning, one by one, 

 Grandly the perfect leaves unfold, 

 And the dusky glow of the sinking sun 

 Flushed and deepened its hues of gold. 



She saw him rise o'er the rolling Rhine, 

 She saw him set in the western sea, 

 "Where is the empress, garden mine, 

 Doth rule a realm like the Fleur-de-lis? 



"The forest trembles before the breath, 

 From the island oak to the northern pine, 

 And the blossoms pale with the hue of death 

 When my anger rustles the tropic vine. 



