Song of a Stormy Night

In my pale garden yesternight
The statues glimmered ghostly-white,
The brooding trees that haunted me
Flapped dusky wings despairingly.

Both air and sky death-heavy were,
But oh my heart was heavier,
For life (I said) is useless grief,
And death an undesired relief.

Then the wind rushed up
Clad in darkness and hail,
Whirling the rain
As a rent white veil,
But my heart, my heart,
Was glad of the gale.

The roar of the wind
Grew hoarser and higher,
Till the thunder spoke
And its voice was fire.
But my heart was freed
From the storm of desire.

My lilies passion-sweet are dead,
Love's purple, royal roses shed,
But heart and garden are besprent
With flowers of patience and content.