Classic Poem

Walls for the weary summon him to rest.
But he outside the walls has flung his form
Ravaged by wars. The memory-legions swarm
To lull him. Gentle winds above him weep
For Troy. Power comes to him at last, and yet
Aeneas may not sleep.

For a great love, an unforgotten love,
Beats in his arteries and shakes his soul
With sorrow, till, as silent clouds unroll,
Ethereal, and from a balmy height
Sidonian Dido reaches down to him,
And seals his eyes with night.