Classic Poem

Wine of the grey sky
Wine of happiness
Invisible rain
Driven down
You bathe me
And I am refreshed:

Yesterday
I was in the city
I stood before
The new station
Watching
The white clouds
Passing
The great Hermes
And flying,
Flying toward Greece.
I saw
The fluted columns
(Not ground Piece into piece But fitted with plaster)
I saw the frieze
Of acanthus:
All that has endured
Through the long days
And the long, long nights
And I thought
Of Phidias,
O wine of the grey sky,
Watching
As there passed
Clouds
White and formless—
Without word
Without sign
Above his Parthanon
Out toward India