Iris Flower, what can you tell
Of the mysteries that dwell
In the opal depths of your fragile shell?
Is it some Fairy whose wand has spun
Those gossamer threads with dewdrops hung,
Reflecting the glow of the morning sun?
Or is it a Spirit that dwells within,
With a message from Heaven to mortal men
Of hope and promise at rainbow’s end?
Iris Flower, you speak to me
Of fair and wondrous worlds that be
In the azure depths of Infinity.
Fair messenger from out of the great Unknown,
I yield to the touch of your magic wand,
And dream and dreeam of you alone.
Far away, through heaven’s azure blue,
We float on misty clouds of dew
Through ever-changing scenes, and delights forever new.
There’s a gleam of the Gold of Orphir
Through the purple robes of Night.
There’s a glint of the Frost King’s palace
Aglow with Aurora’s light.
Iris Flower, to me you tell
All the mysteries that dwell
In the opal depths of your fragile shell.
By Bertrand H. Farr
[From the Bertrand Farr Nursery catalog for 1920]