famous poem

he'd even have his joke
the poets tell
that year
this is the arsenal
no prey am i of poor thoughts
for i was a gaunt, grave councillor
one by one, like leaves from a tree
i am old and blind
passing through huddled and ugly walls
two rows of cabbages
why do you always stand there shivering
a mist was driving down
sing again the song you sung
let a joy keep you