Summoning - Of Pale White Morn

Here many days once gently past me crept in this dear town of old forgetfulness; here all entwined in dreams once long i slept and heard no echo of the world’s distress For here the castle and the mighty tower, more grey and dim than long cold autumn rain, sleep, nor sunlit moment nor triumphal hour, wakes their old lords too long in slumber lain. Like moments clustered in a crowded year, today’s great sadness, or tomorrow’s fear; faint echoes fade within their drowsy halls like ghost; the daylight creeps across their walls