Copa de Oro

(California Poppy) THY satin vesture richer is than looms Of Orient weave for raiment of her kings! Not dyes of olden Tyre, not precious things Regathered from the long-forgotten tombs Of buried empires, not the iris plumes That wave upon the tropics’ myriad wings, Not all proud Sheba’s queenly offerings, Could match the golden marvel of thy blooms. For thou art nurtured from the treasure-veins Of this fair land: thy golden rootlets sup Her sands of gold—of gold thy petals spun. Her golden glory, thou! on hills and plains, Lifting, exultant, every kingly cup Brimmed with the golden vintage of the sun.

Collection: 
English
1861
Ina Donna Coolbrith
Sub Title: 
V. Trees: Flowers: Plants

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