A year or two, and grey Euripides,
And Horace and a Lydia or so,
And Euclid and the brush of Angelo,
Darwin on man, Vergilius on bees,
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I think its about the writers memories of himself when he was learning of the masters, and his embracing them and there work while realizing there words are simply a fragment of their identities lost to the elements. Although these men are dead their work and they themselves live within the language and the culture they have expanded for human understanding. Becoming the symbols of eternal truth and great name Or just read it yourself and come to your own understanding.
brilliant. moving and so complex in content and rhyme. man- i hafta read his whole body! a hack like me could learn a toy or two-
Wonderful, grreat poetry. Panmelys