The Unicorn

Roses grow reddest through a briery hedge,— There baffled hunters, pierced by barb and thorn, Behold, far off, the silver Unicorn, Flame-like and still upon a mossy ledge ; Lilies bloom whitest at the water's edge,— And there, with starlight on His crystal horn, At orange evening and at amber morn He drinks amid the pooled and purple sedge.

Lost in the wood of time His hunters roam : Wild, virginal, aloof, with horn of fire And silver hooves He gleams beyond their spears ; But in the heart's hid Garden is His Home — Where roses redden through a wall of brier, Where lilies whiten with the dew of tears.