Classic Poem

A groan of earth in labor pain,
Her ancient agony and strain;
A tremor of the granite floors —
A heave of seas, a wrench of shores,
A crash of walls, a moan of lips,
A terror on the towers and ships;
Blind streets where men and ghosts go by;
Whirled smoke mushrooming on the sky;
Roofs, turrets, domes, with one acclaim
Turned softly to a bloom of flame;
A thousand dreams of joy, of power,
Gone in the splendor of an hour.