Classic Poem

There in our cloisters green, spangled with flowers,
We'll ponder o'er the page which God hath spread,
And drink its wonders; the gorgeous vestment
Flaming with gold and crimson, nature flings
Over the fainting day. The rose-lipped morn
Night garlanded with stars, the universe
Teeming with rich benevolence, shall teach
Our hearts to mingle in a sweet communion,
So warm and glowing that the hoary Earth
In love's sweet light shall wear another youth
And bloom as in the old primeval garden.
The sands of life shall all be turned to gold.
Our lives, unchilled by frost, or storm, or hail,
Shall slowly wear away, till like ripe fruit
We yield our spirit to the gleaner—Death.