Classic Poem

Peradventure of old, some bard in Ionian Islands,
Walking alone by the sea, hearing the wash of the waves,
Learned the secret from them of the beautiful verse elegiac,
Breathing into his song motion and sound of the sea.

For as a wave of the sea, upheaving in long undulations,
Plunges loud on the sands, pauses, and turns, and retreats,
So the Hexameter, rising and sinking, with cadence sonorous,
Falls; and in refluent rhythm back the Pentameter flows.
Wisely the Hebrews admit no Present tense in their language:
While we are speaking the word, it is already the Past.

In the twilight of age all things seem strange and phantasmal,
As between daylight and dark ghost-like the landscape appears.