Classic Poem

Wondrously the hill-sides shone
with crystal cliffs that were so clear;
and all about were holt-woods bright,
with boles as blue as hue of Inde;
and close-set leaves on every branch
as burnish'd silver sway'd and swung;
when glided 'gainst them glinting gleams,
splendent they shone with shimmering sheen;
and the gravel I ground upon that strand
were precious pearls of Orient;
the sunbeams were but dim and dark,
if set beside that wondrous glow!