Sonnet I

Rays bright gold and amber shone forth from flames
To light a wizened face and gilt goblet
And met cool greys a-streaming through clear panes.
'Gainst such warmth this e'er advancing winter bit.
Turn; behold that plain, so misty and so close
Just beyond these great walls and within see
A great many but half-shrouded stains rose
For dark war and shadow. Oh woe to we.
Rumble hard stone and crash beaten bone did
Straight pass into this room and break the still
Air. Then roughly was that old great door bid
Fall so to admit steel e'er sharp to spill
Red waves from that crystalline cup. Out went
Our fire, and there the last of our light spent.