The Equinox (Volume I, Number X)

ROSA IGNOTA To softest sleep In the scented west In the moonlight deep His ear is pressed To the earth, who wanders, Unseen, alone; Who dreams and ponders, Whose face is stone, Carven by thought : He unveils the skies, And the star-dreams wrought By his frozen eyes Take shape and stand In his argent dream ; And the old gray land And the swift gray stream Glitter and gleam. The silver wonder Of silent stars, The silent thunder Of sunset’s bars, The crimson flare In the ashes of day, Are everywhere On the secret way: Under the hill The clamouring gnomes, For a moment still In their darkened homes, Hear the deep night,