II.

My Castle stands alone, Away from Earth and Time, In some diviner clime, In Fancy's tropic zone, Beneath its summer skies, Where all the live-long year the summer never dies! A stately marble pile whose pillars rise, From sculptured bases, fluted to the dome, With wreathed friezes crowned, all carven nice With pendant leaves, like ragged rims of foam; A thousand windows front the rising sun, Deep-set between the columns, many paned, Tri-arched, emblazoned, gorgeously stained, Crimson and purple, green and blue, and dun, And all their wedded colors fall below, Like rainbows shattered on a field of snow; A bordering gallery runs along the roof, Topt by a cupola, whose glittering spire Pierces the brooding clouds, a glowing woof, With golden spindles wove in Morning's loom of fire!