Classic Poem

Down his great corridors of sumptuous sound
To-day I wandered once again. Each word
Seemed like the lyric rapture of a bird
Singing in Spring above the burgeoning ground.
O once again that old delight I found,
Once more the marvel of his voice I heard,
Until my spirit with new joy was stirred,
Hearing such music through his halls resound.

How beautiful thy palace, Poet blest!—
That room wherein is set thy Grecian Urn,
Thy Nightingale that sings at set of sun
Out in thy garden where my tired feet turn;
And in one chamber, back from his long quest,
That passionate lover, young Endymion!