"Dawn appears, and dawn is light" and the lines of its ilk that follow ("Truth is beauty, beauty truth," and "God appears, and God is night,") are my favourite. Chiasmus (such a great word, that the Isle taught me), and repetition, are vehicles for such beauty, when you change things so slightly. You can keep the form and change the words, or change the words and change the order, or... and yet, it is so elegant, to repeat. In poetry, even if no place else. Must be the liturgical air it gives things.

The other thing I like here, probably to no surprise by @whoshim are the lines where things can be read in more than one way, in particular "Then sun descends o'er Roman plot" which feeds both into the farmer imagery used throughout, and "plot" as in that of the Roman empire as a story, which this poem narrates. Or "shelf", referring both to the shelf of the narrative, but also the geological formation.

The last thing I like in the poem is probably something I put inside, which I am not sure you intended:

Maybe, then, the perch'd cat,

To me, this is the Cheshire Cat, what else could it be?

"Truth is beauty, beauty truth," And none know more than the floor,

In light of the earlier line:

Fell'd an urn of Greece, herself:

The ground knows the nature of beauty, because like Death, here, it is what all beauty meets, before it ends, or changes.

Good work, friend Alain, and congratulations on the deserved recognition :)