The Night

I put aside the branches That clothe the Door in gloom; A glow-worm lit the pathway And a lamp out of her room Shook down a stifled greeting: How could it greet aright The thirst of years like deserts That led up to this night?

But she, like sighing forests, Stole on me—full of rest, Her hair was like the sea’s wave, Whiteness was in her breast,— (So does one come, at night, upon a wall of roses.)

As in a stone of crystal The cloudy web and flaw

Turns, at a flash, to rainbows, Wing’d I became—I saw I sang;—but human singing Ceased, in a burning awe.

Slow, amid leaves, in silence— Rapt as the holy pray— Flame into flame we trembled And the world sank away.