The Dell

'Twas 'pon a night of revelry,
of Dionysian devilry,
I came across most sacred place,
Twin towers of the smoothest grace,
Like lightest silk or perfect glass,
'twixt them dell bereft of grass.
The towers twin, the gate shut tight,
made darker than Stygian night,
yet came there I with flag held high
the gate gave way with joyful sigh
And there I found two growing mounds
their forest drape removed from ground
And I explored the holy cleft
Found rising tide from deepest depth
Around me rose those twin towers
Hills swollen in sacred showers
And 'tween them high, where valley ends
A knoll was there placed by heaven
That I might climb and see below
the river roar and river flow
This rising flood with wind a-howl
A cry of joy, a throaty growl
Til dawn then rose, and tide returned
to midnight pool from which it churned
And I, at peace, there stayed to rest
And await the night's resuming crest.