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THE TROUBADOUR.
It was as he at once had come
Into some star's eternal home,—
He look'd upon a spacious cave,
Rich with the gifts wherewith the wave
Had heap'd the temple of that source
Which gave it to its daylight course.
Here pillars crowded round the hall,
Each with a glistening capital:—
The roof was set with thousand spars,
A very midnight heaven of stars;
The walls were bright with every gem
That ever graced a diadem;
Snow turn'd to treasure,—crystal flowers
With every hue of summer hours.
While light and colour round him blazed,
It seem'd to Raymond that he gazed
Upon a fairy's palace, raised
