Inn of Dreams

<SPAN name="30"></SPAN> <br/> <br/> <p>Peacocks. A Mood</p> <p>In Gorgeous plumage, azure, gold and green,<br/> They trample the pale flowers, and their shrill cry<br/> Troubles the garden's bright tranquillity!<br/> Proud birds of Beauty, splendid and serene,<br/> Spreading their brilliant fans, screen after screen<br/> Of burnished sapphire, gemmed with mimic suns—<br/> Strange magic eyes, that, so the legend runs,<br/> Will bring misfortune to this fair demesne . . .</p> <p>And my gay youth, that, vain and debonair,<br/> Sits in the sunshine—tired at last of play<br/> (A child, that finds the morning all too long),<br/> Tempts with its beauty that disastrous day<br/> When in the gathering darkness of despair<br/> Death shall strike dumb the laughing mouth of song.</p> <br/> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />