In a Time of Flowers
O Love! do you know the spring is hereWith the lure of her magic flute? . . .The old earth breaks into passionate bloomAt the kiss of her fleet, gay foot.The burgeoning leaves on the almond boughs,And the leaves on the blue wave's breastAre crowned with the limpid and delicate lightOf the gems in your turban-crest.The bright pomegranate buds unfold,The frail wild lilies appear,Like the blood-red jewels you used to flingO'er the maidens that danced at the feast of springTo welcome the new-born year.
O Love! do you know the spring is here? . . .The dawn and the dusk grow rifeWith scent and song and tremulous mirth,The blind, rich travail of life.The winds are drunk with the odorous breathOf henna, sarisha, and neem . . .Do they ruffle your cold, strange, tranquil sleep,Or trouble your changeless dreamWith poignant thoughts of the world you loved,And the beauty you held so dear?Do you long for a brief, glad hour to wakeFrom your lonely slumber for sweet love's sake,To welcome the new-born year?
Words in this poem
- rife a.
- Prevailing; prevalent; abounding. [AS. rif abundant, or Icel. rifr munificent; akin to OD. riff, rijve, abundant.]
- changeless a.
- That can not be changed; constant; as, a changeless purpose.
- poignant a.
- Pricking; piercing; sharp; pungent. [F., p. pr. of poindre to sting, fr. L. pungere to prick, sting. See Pungent.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
In a Time of Flowers is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Bird of Time: Songs of Life, Death & the Spring (London: William Heinemann; New York: John Lane Company, 1912), Wikisource; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Sarojini Naidu, In a Time of Flowers, in The Bird of Time: Songs of Life, Death & the Spring (1912), text of Wikisource, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/naidu-bird-of-time/in-a-time-of-flowers.html, id L27531.
Form and metre
In a Time of Flowers is 26 lines in 2 stanzas of 13 lines each. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 76%).
See other poems in iambic pentameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 A----B-B-ACCA hereA · flute · bloom · foot · boughs · breastB · light · crestB · unfold · appearA · flingC · springC · yearA
- 2 AB-B-C-C-ADDA hereA · rifeB · mirth · lifeB · breath · neemC · sleep · dreamC · loved · dearA · wakeD · sakeD · yearA
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| O Love! do you know the spring is here | 9 | ········· |
| With the lure of her magic flute? . . . | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| The old earth breaks into passionate bloom | 10 | ······/˘˘· |
| At the kiss of her fleet, gay foot. | 8 | ········ |
| The burgeoning leaves on the almond boughs, | 10 | ·/˘˘···/˘· |
| And the leaves on the blue wave's breast | 8 | ········ |
| Are crowned with the limpid and delicate light | 10 | ····/˘·/˘· |
| Of the gems in your turban-crest. | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| The bright pomegranate buds unfold, | 7 | ··/˘·˘/ |
| The frail wild lilies appear, | 7 | ···/˘˘/ |
| Like the blood-red jewels you used to fling | 10 | ····/˘···· |
| O'er the maidens that danced at the feast of spring | 11 | ··/˘······· |
| To welcome the new-born year. | 7 | ·/˘···· |
| O Love! do you know the spring is here? . . . | 9 | ········· |
| The dawn and the dusk grow rife | 7 | ······· |
| With scent and song and tremulous mirth, | 9 | ·····/˘˘· |
| The blind, rich travail of life. | 7 | ···˘/·· |
| The winds are drunk with the odorous breath | 10 | ······/˘˘· |
| Of henna, sarisha, and neem . . . | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| Do they ruffle your cold, strange, tranquil sleep, | 10 | ··/˘···/˘· |
| Or trouble your changeless dream | 7 | ·/˘·/˘· |
| With poignant thoughts of the world you loved, | 10 | ·/˘······˘ |
| And the beauty you held so dear? | 8 | ··/˘···· |
| Do you long for a brief, glad hour to wake | 10 | ·······/·· |
| From your lonely slumber for sweet love's sake, | 10 | ··/˘/˘···· |
| To welcome the new-born year? | 7 | ·/˘···· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.