I don't read much poetry, even though I do enjoy it (just never really think about it enough to be honest), but I came across this poem by Lord Dunsany and it instantly became one of my favorite ever.
Who treads these level lands of gold,
The level fields of mist and air,
And rolling mountains manifold
And towers of twilight over there?
No mortal foot upon them strays,
No archer in the tower dwells,
but feet too airy for our ways
Go up and down their hills and dells.
The people out of old romance,
And people that have never been,
And those that on the border dance
Between old history and between.
Resounding fable, as the king
Who held his court at Camelot.
There Guinevere is wandering
And there the knight Sir Lancelot.
And by yon precipice of white,
As steep as Roncesvalles, and more,
Within an inch of fancy's sight,
Roland the peerless rides to war.
And just the tip of Quixote's spear,
The greatest of them all by far,
Is surely visible from here!
But no, it is the Evening Star.