Classic Poem

Over the unseen September tide the mist
Sweeps ever inland, winding in a shroud
Stark walls and toppling towers that in the cloud
Of streaming vapour soar and twirl and twist,
Unbuilded and rebuilded in grey smoke
Until the drifting shadowy bastions seem
The old phantasmal castle wherein man's dream
Seeks shelter from time's still-pursuing stroke.

And I recall how once above a sea
That under cold winds shivered steely clear,
Fresh from the chisel, clean-cut and white and hard,
These towers, rock-founded for eternity,
Glittered when Lancelot and Guinevere
One April morning came to Joyous Gard.