Classic Poem

In the calm marble of the sonnet's rhyme
Fro' the cold alabaster of her verse,
Hereby I carve for 'durance of all time
A dome of refuge for murderers or worse.
Within the portals of this lofty dome
This temple of the Muses and of peace,
Nor strife nor discord-danger ever come
Here from life's battle, all may find surcease.
Here those for whom the world-weight's grown too large—
Of sorrow nought—no more—their hearts may hold—
Whom disappointment doth brain and heart surcharge
Or crime has blackened and all hope turn'd cold,
Here all may come free, and unmolested stay,
All their lives remain, or, at will—go away.