Classic Poem

And so you found that poor room dull,
Dark, hardly to your taste, my dear?
Its features seemed unbeautiful:
But this I know--'twas there, not here,
You plighted troth to me, the word
Which--ask that poor room how it heard!

And this rich room obtains your praise
Unqualified,--so bright, so fair,
So all whereat perfection stays?
Ay, but remember--here, not there,
The other word was spoken!--Ask
This rich room how you dropped the mask!