Classic Poem

The ivory light, untinged by faintest rose,
But pale as any nun arisen chill
And stealing up dim aisles to lift her palms
In orison to Mary's marble knee,
So blanched, so hushed and holy, glided in
Our casements, spreading o'er the waiting walls
Till all the lofty, long, belovèd room
Came glimmering out into a dream of day.
The carven walnut of the balconies,
The browns and crimsons of the volumed shelves
On every side revealing mellow tints,
The chandeliers in azure draperies,
The colored pennons on their leaning staffs,
The long, green tables, and the careless chairs,
Glad faces framed in gold, majestic busts
Whiter than white beneath the crismal dawn,
The windows lucent 'tween their polished bars,
The gleaming panels and the glittering shields,
All quietly reclaimed from melting dusk
Their lines and lustres, waxing bright as if
The spirits of the dead glowed through the books
And shed a shining down their festal hall.