I know the road that leads to Phoenix Park
Winding swiftly through the quiet of dream-sleep
Where the fire-birds drink dew-sparks of the Unknown.
Cool waters rush variedly in that calm
Of garden filled with pearls and onyxes of song.
No flowers and golden-red apples of thought
Springing from the sweet-scented soil of Night
Bedeck the road, but past the frill of light-and-shade
Sometimes is seen the phoenix of vast and fiery wings
Beating its way untraceably through vision’s sky.

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