People who are waiting by the door,
Hidden, have been waiting for a while;
Figures gather patiently in store:
Fey incarnations of style.
Into the room at unpredicted times
Come beings of an evocable art;
Their tread is pace,
Their voices — meters and rhymes,
Their faces — verses I have learned by heart.
The memorized is the enthralled,
A visitor imprisoned in a text;
Who will be swept, recited, forward next?
What line of poetry recalled?