sad poetry

beneath my window in a city street
within this lowly grave a conqueror lies
let us express our baser passions
when, full of warm and eager love
the rain was over, and the brilliant air
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
do you remember
soft as the bed in the earth
old wine to drink
out of the window a sea of green trees
a little peach in the orchard grew
i am old and blind
like eagles on up high