Altars in the Nightfall

                  Altars in the Nightfall

                       The isles of Greece! the isles of Greece
                       Where burning Sappho loved and sung,
                        Where grew the arts of war and peace,
                      Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung!
                             Eternal summer gilds them yet,
                              But all, except their sun, is set.

                              ~ George Gordon, Lord Byron

The skies are brazen back in ancient Greece

When conjured by my mind as heart.  Their strength

Is brass-like, too.  Their power does not decrease

In my conception.  Ancient skies have length

Much closer to eternity in dreams

Like mine, my dreams and daydreams both, which take

Their mythic flights like Daedalus.  The streams

Of light from oldest Grecian sunsets make

Their ways across millennia to me

When I envisage them from open lines

Of poetry.  They cause rapt eyes to see

The polished light as if it glows from shrines,

Not just in twilights made of metal glow,

But also of the temple fires below.