Classic Poem

I DREAMED the world of noon was stricken blind:
A sun, so haggard that it starved the air,
Scarcely sufficed to light the stark despair
Of tearless millions shrieking to the wind.
Then, leering on the world, a hellish mind
Drawn in a hearse, raved silently of pain;
The voices died and silence laid the strain
Of unforgotten anguish on mankind.
Upon their bones the flesh of men grew gray,
All nature withered in a wild regret,
And maddened whispers scared the ashy sun:
“No more” they moaned “men's hearts, like drops of spray,
Shall touch their ocean, mingle and forget—
This is the burial of oblivion!”