xiii.
Long may the twilight rose and amber,
While the stealthy shadows of night increase,
Flush the walls of thine upper chamber,
The hallowed chamber whose name is Peace.
xiv.
Yet O ye halls and ye arching spaces,
Echoing tones to memory sweet,
Waves reflecting familiar faces,
Wood-paths worn by beloved feet,
xv.
Pageant of fretted roofs that cluster
On hill and knoll in the branches green,
Ye are but shadow, and not the lustre,
Garment ye of a grace unseen.
xvi.
All our life is confused with fable,
Ever the fact as the phantasy seems:
Yet the world of spirit lies sure and stable,
Under the shows of the world of dreams.
xvii.
Not an idle and false derision
The rocks that crumble, the stars that fail;
Meaning masketh within the vision,
Shaping the folds of the woven veil.
