The Secret

It was the House of Quietness

To which I came at dusk;

The garth was lit with roses

And heavy with their musk.

The tremulous tall poplar trees

Stood whispering around,

The gentle flicker of their plumes

More quiet than no sound.

And as I wondered at the door

What magic might be there,

The Lady of Sweet Silences

Came softly down the stair.