|A place for thine Academy.
|Let there be an holy wood
|Of embowered solitude
|By the still, the rainless river,
|Underneath the tangled roots
|Of majestic tress that quiver
|In the quiet airs; where shoots
|Of kindly grass are green,
|Moss and ferns asleep between,
|Lilies in the water lapped,
|Sunbeams in the branches trapped
|Windless and eternal even!
|Silenced all the birds of heaven
|By the low insistent call
|Of the constant waterfall.
|There, to such a setting be
|The carven gem of deity,
|A central flawless fire, enthralled
|Like Truth within an emerald!
|Thou shalt have a birchen bark
|On the river in the dark;
|And at the midnight thou shalt go
|To the mid-streams smoothest flow,
|And strike upon a golden bell
|The spirits call; then say the spell:
|Angel, mine angel, draw thee nigh!
|Making the Sign of Magistry
|With the wand of lapis lazuli
|Then, it may be, through the blind dumb
|Night thou shalt see thine angel come,
|Hear the faint whisper of his wings,
|Behold the starry breast begemmed
|With twelve stones of the twelve Kings!
|His forehead shall be diademmed
|With the faint light of stars, wherein
|The Eye gleams dominant and keen,
|Thereat thou swoonest; and thy love
|Shall catch the subtle voice thereof . . .