Classic Poem

Ye unknown colossals!
It took him
To find the warmth
In thy breast of fossils.

O cold days of limpid frost!
Not e'en spares mercy;
At thy kneel hath cast
Thy every shade of meaning traced.

Ah, this unceasing rechain …
Canst thou not tell
A brother whence thou roam?
Yet still seek in dark moods
And feel this hindered,
Thy looming images before me sworn!