Classic Poem

Once on a day, alone but not elate,
I sat perusing a forgotten sage
And turning hopelessly a dim old page
Of history, long disused and out of date,
Reading " his Method " till I lost my own.
When suddenly there fell a gold presage
Of sunset sunshine on the letters thrown.
The day had been one cloud, but now a bird
Shot into song. I left my hermitage
With happy heart; but ere I reached the gate
The sun was gone, the bird, and bleak and drear,
All but an icy breath the balsams stirred:
I turned again and, entering with a groan,
Sat darkly down to Dagoraus Whear.