Classic Poem

How quietly it feeds the eye
This soft autumnal day,
'Twixt yellowing woods and misted sky,
The Castle of Blonay!

Calm on the russet mountain-side
It holds seigniorial state.
The glittering lords who used to ride
Through its reverberant gate,

Now, their last battle lost or won,
Are dust upon the air;
Their ladies, bliss and anguish done,
The beauty and the prayer,

Have long been comforted of sleep;
The judgment-seal is set
On the black secrets of that deep,
Sinister oubliette.

Enchanted Castle of Blonay,
Tranced in a timeless dream,
Thy lofty walls of lustrous gray,
An immemorial gleam

Across the Alpine solitudes,
Hold at an equal price
The chamois and the eagle broods,
Gentian and edelweiss,

And man, unenvying us our sip
Of life's mysterious wine,
That cup just offered to the lip,
So brief and so divine.

But tranquilly thy casements view
The Dent du Midi mount,
Whose seven snow-peaks are still too few
Thy centuries to count.

Thy vassal ranks of poplars fade
From green to saffron stain;
The poplars fall, yet unafraid
Thy pinnacles remain.

What subtle wizardry hath spun
Thy charm against decay,
Untroubled in the setting sun
O Castle of Blonay?