The holy Rose her leaves will soon unfold. The tender bud of dawn already lies Reddening on the wide, transparent skies. Love's star is a white sail the still seas hold. Here, in the light-soaked space above the wold, Through the descending dew the arches rise Of the unseen cathedral, filled with cries From the winged weavers threading it with gold. Here on the hill, the cypress, in accord With me, stands praying: a cowled eremite. And on the roses' cheeks the tears fall light. Upon my cell the patterned rays are poured. And in the East, the purple vines bleed bright, And seething, overflow. ... Hosannah, Lord! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NOT TRANSHISTORICAL DEATH, OR AT LEAST NOT QUITE by HAYDEN CARRUTH INTERRACIAL by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE RING AND THE CASTLE by AMY LOWELL DOMESDAY BOOK: THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: DIPPOLD THE OPTICIAN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: EDITH CONANT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |