Burn, O evening hearth, and waken <br />Pleasant visions, as of old! <br />Though the house by winds be shaken, <br />Safe I keep this room of gold! <br /> <br />Ah, no longer wizard Fancy <br />Builds her castles in the air, <br />Luring me by necromancy <br />Up the never-ending stair! <br /> <br /> <br />But, instead, she builds me bridges <br />Over many a dark ravine, <br />Where beneath the gusty ridges <br />Cataracts dash and roar unseen. <br /> <br />And I cross them, little heeding <br />Blast of wind or torrent's roar, <br />As I follow the receding <br />Footsteps that have gone before. <br /> <br />Naught avails the imploring gesture, <br />Naught avails the cry of pain! <br />When I touch the flying vesture, <br />'Tis the gray robe of the rain. <br /> <br />Baffled I return, and, leaning <br />O'er the parapets of cloud, <br />Watch the mist that intervening <br />Wraps the valley in its shroud. <br /> <br />And the sounds of life ascending <br />Faintly, vaguely, meet the ear, <br />Murmur of bells and voices blending <br />With the rush of waters near. <br /> <br />Well I know what there lies hidden, <br />Every tower and town and farm, <br />And again the land forbidden <br />Reassumes its vanished charm. <br /> <br />Well I know the secret places, <br />And the nests in hedge and tree; <br />At what doors are friendly faces, <br />In what hearts are thoughts of me. <br /> <br />Through the mist and darkness sinking, <br />Blown by wind and beaten by shower, <br />Down I fling the thought I'm thinking, <br />Down I toss this Alpine flower.<br /><br />Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/flower-de-luce-the-bridge-of-cloud/
