Classic Poem

Open your book—!
Withered leaves; thriving legends,
Palaces, kings and princes,
Witches dancing on crutches;
Pious wolves; diamond caves;
Golden trays; black slaves;
All in vain—
Merely rain.

Ring your bell—!
Gold-buttoned pages will appear
Bowing, and smiling, and standing still;
Wine, red wine they will bring,
With the goblets they will ring,
Merry—merry songs they will sing—
All in vain—
Merely rain.

Make up your bed—!
Pillow on pillow soft and high;
Brush aside the window blind,
And all the things on earth you miss
Seek in the feathery abyss,
And let your tears flow, flow
All in vain—