Like a laughing host in the wake of day,

To the shrine of the midnight bars.

And satyrs slid on the glinting spars

Of light, through the halls of space,

And Venus served from the vintage jars,

And a blossom shone on the nose of Mars

And a smile on the old Moon’s face.

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My castle’s roof was the spangled sky

And its carpet of sea-green moss;

And its walls were curtained with tapestry, ...