Classic Poem

Lily-of-the-valley
You have made some old moon-city fragrant, fragrant,
Till her still streets call with elusive perfume,
And her shadows twist, sanded golden through whimpering oleanders,
And one great echo of heaven breaks in silver splinters in the dreams of the sleepers of the city ...

Now is the hour of the great desertion: refugee hour of lily-bright dreams ...
The sea of the streets of the sun-city
Empties through windows and prison-bars of the moon-city ...
Down empty pavements nothing is afoot save crime and love ...

I am afoot, O window-gazer above the dreams and ghosts of the walled garden ...
Silence from the encircling Shadow closes in upon my heels and is struck back, blow by blow.
Blow by blow my heart breaks silence, leaping toward your awaiting arms ...

This is the wall: here grow your ramblers, and here your honeysuckle, and the night-greyed violets ...
Clambering over, I have given my loaf to buy your hyacinths for my soul ...
" Muguet " I call, my feet in the dew, my hands on the wistaria ...

Lily-of-the-valley
You and the moon lean down,
And now this night moves by magic into that Night of the Ages,
The Night of All-Lovers,
And the eternal summer of those moons which have kissed the kisses of passionate young souls
Is ours ...

Dreams and ghosts are crying a soundless song from the dead centuries of loves stronger than death,
The Ages go laughing and weeping up and down the empty streets,
And the Earth, a rich dust of lovers, opens and is the rose that enfolds us in her heart forever ...

We die into the rose ...
Rose-flushed, the city hears song through its dream ...
Impassioned, the white of the lily is the crimson of the rose ...

Clattering silver, the moonlight's a glamour-dance.