Classic Poem

Whiles were, I almost seemed to understand;
I watched the flooding waters with their fleece
Of sudden foam, and felt the ripening peace
And joy of increase that the earth had planned.
Then the great shadow fell across the land,
And in the harsh monotony of wind
I felt the past like Death about my mind,
And mild with grief put forth mine idle hand.
There was the question: each day should I be
What yesterday I was not, and for me
Of my dead self but memory remain?
And when upon my nakedness the snow
Had spread its silence, should I wake and know,
Or sleeping, dream another life as vain?