Classic Poem

The maidens that go yonder, the veins, clothed in red garments, like
sisters without a brother, bereft of strength, they shall stand still!
Stand still, thou lower one, stand still, thou higher one; do thou in
the middle also stand still! The most tiny vein stands still: may then the great artery also stand still!
Of the hundred arteries, and the thousand veins, those in the middle
here have indeed stood still. At the same time the ends have ceased to flow.
Around you has passed a great sandy dike: stand ye still, pray take