Classic Poem

He walks with a smile upon his lips,
As though he saw ahead of him
Something as pleasing as bright ships
Sailing an ocean's rim.

The pavement answers to his feet
With all the arrogance of stone,
And back of him the narrow street
Points out the path that he has known.

But he is immune to sound and sight,
So preoccupied is he
With something ahead of him, like bright
Ships on the rim of the sea.