I knew a shade who spoke so bold, of a city made of gold
It lay upon the plutonian breast of the orb that few know best
and there it lies, hidden, unbidden, waiting watching for the morn
when youth and age no longer scorn and up to heaven they do reach
to find the shore of blackened silver beach
There it lies within its vale, lost to all within a pall
of darkness and shadow, comfortable in rest.
There it lies in shaded barrow, still and lifeless as a shadow,
there it lies with glitt’ring rest, upon the night orb breast.
There it lies til break of dawn, which then will shower such things down.
There it lies until the day, when all the horrid acrid ways
Of men and women fall from earth, and we discover such a birth
as never known by bird or beast, and there we then will see it best
Such glories of the golden halls will fill us with wondering calls
for simple love of life and men, when gold is avarice, never again!