Classic Poem

The angel eyes of heaven
Looked down from the darkness above;
The fiery eyes of the city
Burned up through the blackness below;
And never a trace of the pearly moon
Nor a hint of the sunrise glow!

Arch and portal and pillar
Towered on the height midway,
Shapely and tall and stately,
And wan with a doubtful gleam:
And the dome that rose above them all
Was the temple-dome of a dream.

High aloof, the goddess,
Throned in the solemn light,
Half seen, half guessed, held converse
With the powers of the waste of air;
And it seemed that the soul of a mighty land
Was halting and doubting there.