Classic Poem

House of the past, house of the sunken stair,
In somnolence of long untrodden grass!
Tragedy, pleasure, sin have crossed your door.
Your crumbling gables are no longer fair,
And all the sigh of all the heaven may pass
Along your desert floor.

And you, the newly-builded, firmly set,
Wide-halled, with gleaming porch and peristyle,
You, with your shining gables sound and whole!
What shall you say, O house of no regret,
Proud in your strength, but with an ignorant smile
Still waiting for your soul!