” WHAT dost thou here,
Thou dusky courtier,
Within the pinky palace of the rose?
Here is no bed for thee,
No honeyed spicery,-
But for the golden bee,
And the gay wind, and me,
Its sweetness grows.
Rover, thou dost forget;-
Seek thou the passion-flower
Bloom of one twilight hour.
Haste, thou art late!
Its hidden savors wait.
For thee is spread
Its soft, purple coverlet;
Moth, art thou sped?
-Dim as a ghost he flies
Thorough the night mysteries.
(Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz)”
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Based on Topics: Night Poems, Art Poems, Mystery Poems, Ghost Poems, Haste PoemsBased on Keywords: passion-flower, pinky, savors