The Unchanged

IF we could salvage Babylon

From times's grim heap of dust and bones;

If we could charm cool waters back

To sing against her thirsty stones;

If, on a day,

We two should stray

Down some long, Babylonian way —

Perhaps the strangest sight of all

Would be the street boys playing ball.

If through Pompeii's agelong night

A yellow sun again might shine,

And little, sea-born breezes lift

The hair of lovers sipping wine,

If, in some fair,

Dim temple there,

We watched Pompeii come to prayer —

Not the strange altar would surprise

But strangeness of familiar eyes!

Ay, should our magic straightly wake

Atlantis from her sea-rocked sleep

And we on some Processional

Look down where dancing maidens leap,

If one flushed maid

Beside us stayed

To tie more firm her loosened braid —

Would not the shaking wonder be

To find her just like you and me?