The hours of night unheeded fly,

And in the grate the embers fade;

Vast shadows one by one pass by

In silent daemon cavalcade.



But still the magic volume holds

The raptur’d eye in realms apart,

And fulgent sorcery enfolds

The willing mind and eager heart.



The lonely room no more is there—

For to the sight in pomp appear

Temples and cities pois’d in air

And blazing glories—sphere on sphere.