Classic Poem

A little while before the fall was done
A day came when the frail year paused and said:
" Behold! a little while and I am dead;
Wilt thou not choose, of all the old dreams, one? "
Then dwelt I in a garden, where the sun
Shone always, and the roses all were red;
Far off the great sea slept, and overhead
Among the robins matins had begun.
And I knew not at all it was a dream
Only, and that the year was near its close;
Garden and sunshine, robin-song and rose,
The half-heard murmur and the distant gleam
Of all the unvext sea, a little space
Were as a mist above the Autumn's face.