Classic Poem

With clouded brow and weary gait,
Unheeding though the hour be late,
Doth Selius tramp the portico,
His weary head bowed down with woe;
For grief that scarce can be suppressed
He tears his hair and beats his breast.
Deem not this sorrow doth portend
The loss of brother or of friend;
His wife and sons — long life be theirs —
Are prosperous; in his affairs
Bailiff and slaves are diligent,
No tenant cheats him of his rent.
" Then what can cause his grief," you say —
He has to dine at home to-day.