Wings Of Perfume

Unnamed, incognizable, Save of inarticulate memory, A quiver of scent from Earth's familiar night, And, lo! the night and the earth Are dropped like a cloak outworn, And half-remembered twilight, Some where beyond the intervening Of time and dimension, Arches above me, dark with columns, Enormous, fantastic, not to be imagined on Earth, Of a half-seen temple. Through it, upon wings Of an indescribable wind That blows from the face of an alienated world - A wind overpowering, vast With its hints of unbelievable things Struggling confusely to be remembered - Through it such fragrance is carried swiftly >From sacred gardens of scarce conceivable flowers Rapt in the fluctuant ecstatic gloom Between a blue sun lately set And a green sun not yet risen.