a Winged Passion*

...a Winged Passion woke, and, one by one
dreaming in marble all the castle lay,
there fell upon the night, like angel's tears,
like some gigantic ghost-flower born of night,
the syllables of that mysterious prayer,
blossoming in white towers to the moon,
soft sighed the passionate darkness to the tune
of the unearthly sweetness of a rose
swam upward from the troubled heart of May.

. . . . . . . .

* All apologies to e.e. cummings [ "Of Nicolette" ]