Classic Poem

You are to me the full vermilion rose
That Love with trembling arms uplifted crowned,
Yet moist from April's irised diamond,
Queen of the summer over all that grows.
And while the rings of petal still disclose,
My spirit likewise tenderly unbound
Falls out in webs of shadow, and around
The mercy of your beauty finds repose.
And often when the airs of midnight fail,
I dream I lift you skyward all for me
Into the moonlight of futurity,
A darkling star, a quiet nightingale
That wakens in my arms beyond the pale
Of what I was or am or thought to be.