Classic Poem

We have read in legends of old
Of palaces built in a night,
With walls of glittering gold
And roofs of crystalline light,
With stores of treasures untold
Collected from deep and from hight.

At sunset the site is a waste
Of tangled unfructified ground,
By fens and quagmires defaced,
Where reptiles and serpents abound—
A paradise spoiled and debased;
No rose sheds its fragrance around.

At midnight assemble the powers—
The gnomes and the jinns from the earth,
The fairies that lurk in the flowers
The Titans the forgers of worth,
The weavers of magical bowers—
To build the beautiful birth.

In silent and cheerful array,
In orderly cohort and line,
The workers their master obey
By his will, without order or sign;
The wizard exhibits the way
With wisdom and foresight divine.

The briars and brambles are banned;
The marsh is transformed to a lake;
Tall trees on the avenues stand;
Bright fountains in jewel-stars break;
A new Eden blooms in the land
Ere the birds to the sunrise awake.

Foundations of marble are laid;
Like visions arise the fair walls;
Silken tapestries fine are displayed;
Tall mirrors show gem-adorned halls;
The chambers richly-arrayed
Are thronged with obedient thralls.

And so when the magical car
Brings home the prince and his bride,
There's nothing unlovely to mar
Their welcome as onward they ride,
And music swells, echoing far,
And banners and pennants float wide.

The Palace of Pleasure is done!
In a night it is built. In the day
It will vie with the might of the sun;
In an hour it may vanish away.
So joy like a cobweb is spun;
As the genii build so they slay.