Classic Poem

A poet lay beneath a tropic moon
And heard strange noises in the misty woods,
The impervious spirit-haunted solitudes,
And felt across his face a silver swoon
Stream as a veil of gauze, — and, sleeping soon,
The inner universal life revealed
Shone through him, and creation's music pealed
About him, like some all-embracing tune.

And through the trees came many figures flitting
Under the crimson candles of the night;
And voices of triumphant lovers sitting
On mossy knolls, by still pools clear and bright;
And he was one with birds and flowers unwitting,
And through his brain there beamed a wondrous light.