Classic Poem

Sometimes there's a flock of sheep
Traveling landward, where the grass
Grows so green and fresh and deep,
They might crop it as they pass.

Sometimes there's a school of fish,
Slowly swimming out to sea,
Perch or mackerel, as you wish,
Scales as bright as scales can be.

Now a castle rises there,
Broken casements, turrets rent:
Here a bit of crazy stair,
Or a ruined battlement.

And anon, a mountain peak
Shines beneath eternal snows,
Where the venturous might seek
For the little Alpine rose.

Or, perchance, a face looks out,
Like a seraph's faint and far,
Just to see what we're about,
In this distant star!