Classic Poem

Between two hard breaths of a parching day,
I am rapt away
Into some unkenned garden-place,
Where for a space
Dust nor demand may reach, nor human speech,
Nor any far-off chime
From walls of Time.
But I wake up to coolness and the peace
Of cedarn fragrances;
And the remembered hush of grass made new
With morning, and with dew.
And all the darling trees of paradise,
Leaning anear, let fall
Vague petals in my eyes,
And hands, and over all,
Soft as the snow that fills the broken ground;
Till every wound
Is solaced; and no less
The air is thronged and white with happiness.
And still with one accord
They rain the petals down, soft blinding me,
So that I may surmise—but never see—