An Augury

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An Augury

Upon my desk a single spray,

With starry blossoms fraught.

I write in many an idle way,

Thinking one serious thought.

“O flowers, a fine Greek name ye bear,

And with a fine Greek grace.”

(Be still, O heart, that turns to share

The sunshine of a face.)

“Have ye no messages⁠—no brief,

Still sign: ‘Despair,’ or ‘Hope’?”

A sudden stir of stem and leaf⁠—

A breath of heliotrope!