Classic Poem

Sacred must thou, palace, be
That such treasure in thy hand
Dost enfold,
Fairer, if aught alchemy
Fairer yield, thy walls should stand
Ev'n than gold.

Then, ah then, clear rubies red
And fair polished emeralds green
Thy windows were,
Since thee have angels visited
And in thy entrances are seen
That are so fair.

I adore thee, goddess mine,
More than all the gods divine,
That art my gladness,
Yea, the goddess of my joy
And of cares that me annoy
And my sadness.

Thee I worship evermore
And for thee myself abase,
So to woo thee;
Thee, O lady, I adore
That my heart from out its place
Drawest to thee.

I still watch while thou art sleeping
And the hope that o'er me stole
Doth likewise sleep:
I alone my watch am keeping
That the loss of life and God and soul
Must ever weep.

And all consolation
As a mortal enemy
I repel,
Saying: " Of thee will I none;
Waste not then thy time with me.
Fare thee well. "