Classic Poem

The languid Moon serenely trails
Her courtage through the night,
And fills the white aerials
With soft nacreous light.
And e'en beneath the garden wall,
There rime-torqued borders shine,
She gilds the frozen films that fall
Round Psyche's form divine.
And here I take from out my breast
A fair love-freighted thing,
That Lydian peace or wild unrest
To every heart must bring.
And softly lay your blood red rose
Upon her marble breast,
No more to wake to thermal throes
The heart that longs for rest.
So for a short lethean hour
In lustral trance 'twill lie,
Until beneath Moon's ardent power
Love's little page will die.