Classic Poem

Beyond the deeps what silence broke?
the hour returns to whence it came:
and gods of a departing folk
fill all the west with stormy flame.

Their day was hot with war and lust:
their wars were base with hate and greed:
them-seem'd their sordid realm of dust
was all the stainless gulfs might breed.

Therefore the silence bids them home:
yet once, or e'er their kingdom cease,
their rage is slaked in bloody foam
and still'd in broad and golden peace.

Thou Tyre, shall such an end be thine?
or shall thy gods in swinish sleep
belch forth no soul and, undivine,
leave nothing to the ancient deep?