ROSA IGNOTA
Was the veil of Olympus! Now the shadowy night
That sang to me, that sang, that sang to me
Sprang from the underworld of Eld; the moon
That circled in the heavens sang to me.
And I that heard the olden monstrous lays
Of eld, the dreaming wonders of the dawn,
Died, and still lie imprisoned in the rocks
By the salt sea, knowing of the doom of man,
But being dumb, as is the doom of man.
For nightfall is delight of Eld, and I
Wander bareheaded under the dark sky;
Calling and calling from the windy deeps,
The olden Night still draws me: moonlight weeps
For sunlight faded in the dark ; the sun
Is under the dark clouds ; still one by one
Soft, silent stars creep silently upon me,
Leaving soft trails of light. O wonder-dawn
Of the inverted thunder of the skies—
Back to the gardens of old Babylon !
The hanging lamps, the slow enchanted moon,
The gold-eyed stars, the pillars of the sea,
And the call of Her forgotten! Oh! I lie
Under the stars, upon the dewy sward,
And all around me is the silent city,
The soft, white city, softened by the dawn.
And I hear the sistrons, and I hear the songs
Sung to the hanging moon! And thou, Istar,
Radiantly comest on the brains of men
To slow illumination of desire ;
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