Classic Poem

Bright was the moon as from thy gates I went,
Majestic Rouen! And the silver Seine
Dimpled with joy, as murmuring to the main,
A pilgrim like myself, her course he bent.
Thou art a city beautiful to see,
Surpassing in magnificence that seat
Of kings, the capital, the gay retreat
Of which " all Europe rings! " Full oft of thee
Will be my future dreams; when far away,
I still shall mingle with thy ancient throung;
Shall pace thy marble halls, and gaze among
The Gothic splendours of thy once bright day,
When the first Francis was thy guest, and thou
Thyself didst wear a crown upon thy brow!