In marble halls where echoes dance,
The past unfolds in timeless trance,
Notes of lyres and voices sing,
Of ancient tales and the joy they bring.

Underneath the starlit skies,
Philosophers ponder, the wise surmise,
Where shadows of the past abide,
In wisdom’s realm, they confide.

Columns rise in grandeur’s grace,
Guardians of a forgotten place,
Through their silent, stoic stance,
They speak of history’s endless dance.

Oh, classical era, rich and vast,
Your legacy forever will last,
In art, in thought, in every sphere,
Your whispers we hold dear.