A hall; a tall foreboding house of stone:
Set upon the lonely, stretching snow,
And there, by its rusty iron gate, I stood
With a tall, strange friend I did not know

“Come,” he spoke, and went on, through the gate;
I followed him, past quiet trees which stood
Like long dead sentries, menacing the path,
With blackened leaves and limbs of rotten wood

The door was large, and heavy, rough-hewn oak,
And beckoned us, with haste, to go away;
But still we made a cautious entrance there,
And I, with silent wonder heard him say:

In rugged mountains ringed in mist
You stood, majestic, against the sky
Where mighty timbers soared towards heaven
Your tall spires shimmered on high

Where trickling creek met mighty river
And Voolkys wandered in the sun
Where cave mouths shimmered with hint of diamond
You nestled with beauty matched by none

In fairer days the merchant traders
Thronged to deal in your pleasant streets
Spices and fabrics and fruit from afar
Were bought and sold from the hawker’s seat