THE serpents are asleep among the poppies,
The fireflies light the soundless panther’s way
To tangled paths where shy gazelles are straying,
And parrot-plumes outshine the dying day.
O soft! the lotus-buds upon the stream
Are stirring like sweet maidens when they dream.
A caste-mark on the azure brows of Heaven,
The golden moon burns sacred, solemn, bright
The winds are dancing in the forest-temple,
And swooning at the holy feet of Night.
Hush! in the silence mystic voices sing
And make the gods their incense-offering.
(Sarojini Naidu)
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Based on Topics: God Poems, Night Poems, Death & Dying Poems, Heaven Poems, Dreams Poems, Silence PoemsBased on Keywords: panther, fireflies, swooning, outshine, gazelles, lotus-buds