In marble halls where echoes sing,
Of bygone days and timeless spring,
Where muses dance and poets dream,
The world was bathed in golden gleam.

Beneath the dome of azure sky,
Philosophers would question why,
The stars above in silent grace,
Would guide the hearts of every race.

Through columns tall and statues grand,
The whispers of the wise command,
A symphony of thought and art,
That still today, ignites the heart.

In every note and crafted line,
The essence of the age divine,
The Classical Era’s timeless lore,
Forever cherished, evermore.