Classic Poem

1.

He stands as stiff as a tree trunk,
In frost and wind and heat;
His arms are skyward lifted,
Rooted in earth his feet.

Bagiratha, self-tormented
Thus stands, until his woe
Moves Brahma, from high heaven
To bid the Ganges flow.

But I, beloved, suffer
My martyrdom in vain;
From the heaven of your eyes, dear,
There falls no healing rain.

2.

Four-and-twenty weary hours yet,
Till my rapture is complete —
Rapture, that with sidelong glances,
Lovely eyes have promised sweet.

What a clumsy thing a word is,
And how poor is speech alone!
Blurt it out, and, flitting past you,
Lo! the butterfly is flown.

But a look is vast and boundless:
At a look the lover's breast
Can become a starry heaven,
Heaven infinite and blest!

3.

Not a kiss, though months are over
Since I saw and loved you first!
Poorest among men you leave me,
Leave me standing, mouth athirst.

Once was happiness so nigh me,
I could feel it breathing sweetly.
But my lips it held aloof from —
Held aloof, and passed discreetly.

4.

Emma, tell, and tell me truly,
Was it love that made me silly?
Or, because I was so silly,
Did the love but follow duly?

By my passion even, Emma,
By my lovers' madness even,
I'm tormented less and troubled,
Than I am by this dilemma.

5.

Jar and wrangle, waste of breath!
When together, always strife!
So I go, and find that life
Life no longer is, but death.

Night is spent in wonder sad
Whether death or hell the worse is;
Ah! I think my torment's curse is
That already I am mad.

6.

Hateful night with shadows dreary
Steals upon us, furtive, wan,
And our souls are sick and weary;
Heavy-eyed we gaze and yawn.

You grow old, and I grow older:
Dead our spring, and fallen its bloom;
You grow cold, and I grow colder,
While the winter nears with gloom.

Ah, the last is always sorrow!
Love's sweet sigh is but a breath;
Loveless sighs will come to-morrow,
And the end of life is death.