No mirror'd walls the wandering glance invite,
No gauzy curtains drop the misty veil.
And there the vista leads of lessening doors,
And there the summer sunset's golden gleam
Along the line of darkling portrait pours,
And warms the polish'd oak or ponderous beam.
X.
Hark! from the depths beneath that proud saloon
The water's moan comes fitful and subdued,
Where in mild glory yon triumphant moon