Classic Poem

Guarded within the old red wall's embrace,
— Marshalled like soldiers in gay company,
— The tulips stand arrayed. Here infantry
Wheels out into the sunlight. What bold grace
Sets off their tunics, white with crimson lace!
— Here are platoons of gold-frocked cavalry,
— With scarlet sabres tossing in the eye
Of purple batteries, every gun in place.
— Forward they come, with flaunting colours spread,
With torches burning, stepping out in time
— To some quick, unheard march. Our ears are dead,
We cannot catch the tune. In pantomime
— Parades that army. With our utmost powers
— We hear the wind stream through a bed of flowers.