Classic Poem

Like long terraces the evening clouds
Prolong themselves to an infinite grey
Of distance, as shadows seen in a dream.

Like old parks full of autumnal branches
Which the winds agitate, slowly, to and fro;
The evening clouds, grey interwoven,
Sway in a stately measure of old.

Like colonnades, like colonnades darkening,
Like colonnades ancient, mouldering, mysterious,
Stand the motionless clouds of evening:
And my old soul goes shivering amid them,
Seeking grey ghosts that resemble me:

Like colonnades along long terraces
Prolonged, the colonnades of temples,
Behind whose bronze gates, never opened,
Crouch the colossal gods of night.