I, Whom Apollo Somtime Visited

I, WHOM Apollo sometime visited,
Or feigned to visit, now, my day being done,
Do slumber wholly; nor shall know at all
The weariness of changes; nor perceive
Immeasurable sands of centuries
Drink of the blanching ink, or the loud sound
Of generations beat the music down.

poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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