THE MOTH AND THE EVENING PRIMROSE
by: Danske Dandridge (1854-1914)
- HE Moth is waiting for the night
- To poise his feathered wings, untried,
- Fresh from their prison, scarcely dried,
- And trembling for the trial flight.
The Rose is dreaming of the Bee:
Perchance my Primrose wakes for me.
- The evening wears a gold zone:
- One waits and listens like the flower,
- She feels her fate and knows her hour.
The night is come, but not alone:
Love's wings are trembling on the air:
All the heart's treasure lying bare.
POEMS BY DANSKE DANDRIDGE
"The Moth and the Evening Primrose"
is reprinted from Joy and Other Poems. Danske Dandridge.
New York: G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1900.