Classic Poem

Shall I live in piles of masonry?
Shall I sit me down in my palace of sense,
And cognizance take, and mastery,
Of every wonder brought from hence,
From hither and yon, by my senses fine,
And all heaped up in this palace of mine?

For, O, the palace is fair to see,
Carven with figures gay is the wall,
And hung with storied tapestry;
And I could be happy here withal,
But that through the pierced windows high
I can just catch a glimpse of the outside sky.