An Empty Chair

I sit below a wall of a glass

Lucid, though of colour paned

Waiting for the light to pass

Across my earnest poise; restrained

To touch my soul and warm my heart

Expel the chill and shadow's pain

Till the hour bid it shall depart

To on the 'morrow come again

Shadowed 'neath majestic spire

The tiles of the roof and floors

Encased the singing of the lyre

Drew life in through its oaken doors

A hallowed hall; then, pure and bold

Had once bid companies

To listen to the words of olde

Renowned in gilded tapestries

But empty, now; in silence attir'd

Unadorned by harp or holly tree

In disarray and silence, mired
Deserted by that mortal company

The lilted web my seat doth bed

Bestows a silk embrace; encompassing

That relates my stature; brown and red

Olden, though steadfast enduring

My legs devised o' aspen, rare

Support my frame in resolution

That may the furnace' flame forbear

And fulfill my constitution

This principle of sanctity;

The creed which keeps my soul unta'en

That steels my stern fidelity

Is simply, to remain