break up poem

i know not where
do you hear the rain?
old wine to drink
lo! 'tis a gala night
looking beyond
melancholy days have come
the arches of the red bridge
all those treasures that lie
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
i cannot always feel his greatness
i stand in the cold gray weather
out of the deep and the dark
pushing out, struggling vainly
at dawn, he said