The Flower

I am the man who found a flower, A blossom blown upon the wind, More radiant than the sunrise rose, More sweet than lotus-airs of Ind.

I clutched the flower, and on my heart I crushed its petals, red and burning. O ecstasy of life new-born! O youth returned, the unreturning!

I am the man who dared the Gods And under their thunderbolts lay blest, Because I found the flower, and wore it One wild hour upon my breast.