Classic Poem

Founder of time and all therein,
With thee our prayers and vows begin,
Janus, thou glorious god,
Too mean of yore was thine abode,
For through thine arch as by a road
Rome's hurrying myriads trod;
Where'er thy fourfold face doth turn
A forum now mayst thou discern;
Thy shrine may none profane.
For Caesar's gift, a boon so great,
Keeps fast for aye thine iron gate
In sign that peace doth reign.