Classic Poem

The Spring came to this street with spinning tops,
And marbles rolling where the yards were bare,
With parti-coloured bonnets in the shops,
And young girls' laughter on the sterile air.
Through open windows and from stair to stair,
Went women's voices, calling each to each,
And in the cramped and crowded little square,
The ancient hush of soft and tender speech.

For all the lack of green things coming in,
That magic that was marbles in the street,
That swept the stairs, and moved the tops to spin,
Was wine and music, potent still and sweet,
As when it swayed those graceful girls of Troy,
And set to dreaming many a Trojan boy.