Classic Poem

  A. Within yon antique rooms
Great Powers abide. Which guard this place from wrong;
The strength of Michael: Raffaelle's angel grace;
Grave Titian's splendour; Paolo's sunset dreams:
And Deities, who once (so poets write)
Dwelt on Olympus, from their heights come down,
And sit all round in marble!
  B. Let us go in.

*****

  A. Stand here, and gaze thy fill on beauteous Art!
—Now, look beyond,—beyond its deeds or dreams,
And thou wilt see the Spirits of human power,
Creators of the things which shine below.
Pause not! but let thine aspirations still
Ascend: for wondrous regions lie beyond;
Whose mystic heights, whose darkness calm and holy,
No star can penetrate. There, dwells the Thought,—
The Power, the Spirit of Good, from whence all else
Derive their purpose and their origin.