You really can't imagine how I love the ancient Greeks.
I love the dancing language where their mobile spirit speaks.
I love the songs of Homer, flowing on like streams of light,
With a touch of human kindness in the splendid shock of fight.
I love the Alexandrians whose inimitable grace
Filled the world with piping shepherds, though a far from piping place.
But my chief delight, like Arnold's, is the glory of the nine, Passion, laughter, deathless beauty, on the Attic stage divine.
This is not a poem it's a statement.
Oh, it's a poem, all right. It has a definite rhyme pattern (and a good one) .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
It looks like part of the letter, introducing himself to somebody he met, caring about his opinion..