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.
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..