Classic Poem

Fraught with stars the dark nights come and go
and come and go the dazzling coral days
and the grey of the rains and the fleeting clouds
. . . and thou, expectant.

Thou expectant and the lingering hours!
How languidly they stir, the torpid plants!
It seems the four-and-twenty sisters are shod
with clogs of lead.

This incandescent rose impends already
within the verdant clusters of its bodice.
Within the verdant clusters the wonder lurks
of its sacred flesh.

But when shall we behold the open rose!
Eternal God, thou never makest haste,
but man is anxious, being ephemeral.
Lord, when shall we behold the open rose!