Tanagra

CROWDED cities where she went
Are quiet now. The darkness slips
Over porch and pediment
And the long ships.

Hard grace of chiseled stone is brought
To formless dust. No word again
Shall rouse the quick, adventurous thought Of the keen men.

Worlds have fallen; yet we know
That where the scattered ruins spread,
Once she held her mantle so,
And turned her head.