Poems by Themis

Clay-flower

Take, O Love, this aching dust,

 Within your hands of power;

Break the seals of night's thick crust,

And mould me to a flower.

Through the veins of rock and earth

Let flow your streams of grace,

Kindle the roots anew to birth,

 Upon my earth-clods trace

Visions of the coming Spring,

Seed-secrets, mute and close,

Promise of the blossoming

Of your immortal Rose.

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