Classic Poem

Now that a town of the North
In which a discerning band
Has caused your name to go forth,
And lifted on high your hand
Before all men on the Earth
As a sign of a contest won;
What should you do with your wealth
But spill it in water and stone;
With a Dolphin to scatter the spilth,
To be for a sign when you're gone
That you in the town of your birth
Laboured and hewed at a cup
To hold what the clear sky spills;
Why should you not set it up
Under the granitic hills?
What did the Roman of old,
After the Pyrrhic slaughter,
But spend the hard-won gold
To bring in the Sabine water?
Gracious and bountiful men,
Caesars and Cardinals,
Laid hold of the mountain treasure, and then
Spilt it within the walls,
For children to dabble and splash,
And break the bead at the brim;
For sparrows to shudder and wash,
And the Dolphin's freshet unlimn
The Dolphin under its wave
Till he seem to tumble and reel,
For his back to a poet he gave,
And he follows at Venus' heel;
He comes from the depths at a song
O set him on high in his place;
For he stands for what flows in the lovely and strong
And a sign of the Julian race!