58 Tall Bearded Iris 



Hail to you Iris, your reign may be fleeting, 

 Leal are your subjects who give you glad greeting; 

 Blessings attend you upon your bright way; 

 Faithful the hearts now your triumph acclaiming 

 Loyal the lips your allegiance naming; 

 Child of the Rainbow and queen of the May. 



W. L. Patteson: Iris. 



White Iris, how pure, how lovely. 



Like a virgin 



In her starched lawn fete dress * * * 



Iris, pallid blue, gold veined. 



And as if coloured from dawn chills. 



Or from the yellow-fingered touching 



Of curious starlight * * * 



Purple Iris, 



Streaked with amethystine memories of the night. 



Health-glossed and firm as are those ripe wings 



Of oriental butterflies * * * 



So in my garden 



Undulating ranks of Iris, 



Slimly holding their broad flat blooms 



(Like tripods of incense) 



Aloft-towards the moist spearing 



Of morning sunlight. 



Michael Strange: Iris. 



Aly mother let me go with her, 

 (I had been good all day), 

 To see the Iris flowers that bloom 

 In gardens far away. 



