Classic Poem

White flower, holy with beauty,
Grail that the blossoming spirit has filled and riven,
It was twilight with showers, and one star shining
When you were given.

Now morning is here
And rain still falling, —
You will fade, immaculate as at first unfolden
While the last birds are calling.

One made you for his delight
And set you apart;
Only a god and a star
Have looked on your heart.