In marble halls where echoes play,
The whispers of a bygone day,
A symphony of time unfolds,
Each note a story, gently told.

The columns rise in graceful dance,
Their shadows cast a timeless trance,
Where art and thought in union stand,
The legacy of a golden land.

The air is rich with wisdom’s call,
In every sculpture, grand and tall,
A testament to dreams once dreamed,
In every corner, history gleamed.

Beneath the sky, the past remains,
A melody that softly strains,
In every heart, an ancient song,
The classical era, proud and strong.