Poetry And Philosophy

Out of the past the dim leaves spoke to me
  The thoughts of Pindar with a voice so sweet
  Hyblæan bees seemed swarming my retreat
  Around the reedy well of Poesy.
  I closed the book. Then, knee to neighbor knee,
  Sat with the soul of Plato, to repeat
  Doctrines, till mine seemed some Socratic seat
  High on the summit of Philosophy.
  Around the wave of one Religion taught
  Her first rude children. From the stars that burned
  Above the mountained other, Science learned
  The first vague lessons of the work she wrought.
  Daughters of God, in whom we still behold
  The Age of Iron and the Age of Gold.