Inn of Dreams

<SPAN name="12"></SPAN> <br/> <br/> <p>Spring in the South</p> <p>Beautiful as some rich embroidery<br/> The valley lies in verdant amplitude,<br/> Great mountains—like old merchants—o'er it brood—<br/> And as a lovely woman languidly<br/> Trailing her long blue robes, so comes the sea<br/> To touch it softly in a wistful mood . . .<br/> The sky forgets her starry multitude,<br/> Seeing how fair mere earthly flowers can be!</p> <p>Glad country where the wayward feet of Spring,<br/> Moving in mystic dances, bring desire,<br/> New miracles of beauty every day . . .<br/> Where Love and sweet Delight fly wing to wing<br/> Forgetful as in dreams, that bright as fire<br/> So burn the hours of joy as swift away!</p> <br/> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />