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No rays from the holy heaven come down
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No rays from the holy heaven come down On the long night-time of that town But light from out the lurid sea Streams up the turrets silently Gleams up the pinnacles far and free Gleams up the pinnacles far and free Up domes, up spires, up kingly halls Up fanes, up Babylon-like walls Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers Up sculptured ivy and stone flowers Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers Up sculptured ivy and stone flowers Up many and many a marvellous shrine Whose wreathed friezes intertwine The viol, the violet and the vine The viol, the violet and the vine from Edgar Allan Poe
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