Classic Poem

Here in the North I chase an old despair
And study Error which is Life within.
I hear old voices, and the city din,
The heart-and-hammer beat of common care.
And dusk outside and cold, the sky and air
Are miserable as unforgiven sin
Round the sick foliage, rotting, stiffly thin.
One more day dies which never yet was fair.
Then may I take your letter and console
The bloodless temper of my life, to learn
How down Maggiore the superb gold soul
And marvel of Italian sunset turn
A velvet violet deep within the shoal,
And the high vineyard lies like purple fern.