Classic Poem

I KNOW the winds are rhythmical
In unison with your footfall.
I know that in your heart you keep
The secret of the woodland's sleep.

You met the blossom-bearing May—
Sweet sister!—on the road half way,
And she has laid upon your hair
The coloured coronal you wear.

But ah! the white wings of the Dove
Flutter about the head I love,
And on your bosom doth repose
The beauty of the Mystic Rose,

That I must add to poetry
A dark and fearful ecstasy;
For in the house of joy you bless
Unworthiness with holiness.