Classic Poem

A dream of gables and of olden days;
Of dragon-crested fountains, knights on tombs;
Of leaded panes, huge beakers, dungeon glooms;
Of banners, Gothic signboards, low-arched ways;

Of guilds, of 'prentices, of city frays;
Of patient armourers in raftered rooms;
Of weavers bending over household looms;
Of particoloured knaves; of mystery plays.

Ay, ay, a dream: and in the city square
A spectre soldiery, and phantom men,
Women, and children, kneeling as in prayer.

Before a phantom Tilly, sitting there
On ghostly steed.... And see, as even then
Dark doom is in his eyes; in theirs despair.