Poetry and Philosophy

Out of the past the dim leaves spoke to me

The thoughts of Pindar with a voice so sweet

Hyblaean bees seemed swarming my retreat

Around the reedy well of Poesy.

I closed the book. Then, knee to neighbor knee,

Sat with the soul of Plato, to repeat

Doctrines, till mine seemed some Socratic seat

High on the summit of Philosophy.

Around the wave of one Religion taught

Her first rude children. From the stars that burned

Above the mountained other, Science learned

The first vague lessons of the work she wrought.

Daughters of God, in whom we still behold

The Age of Iron and the Age of Gold.