Classic Poem

Ah me! the days glide hastily away,
Although, to mourning, they seem to me but slow;
And I shall soon behold the fatal day,
With whose departing splendor I must go
And leave the idol of my heart in woe,
Or follow her, where she has led the way
Into the silence, where we may not know
The sighs of grief, or laughter of the gay.

And shall I first from mortal life depart,
And leave my dearest Guilia here behind?
Or wilt thou fly from me? Ah! who can tell.
But thou art now so dear unto my heart,
That wert thou gone from me, I could not find
A joy without thee: this I know full well.