Classic Poem

FROM THE PORTUGUESE OF CAMOENS .

Vain was the frown of pride to disunite
The hearts that love and sentiment had joined;
Vainly it urged its stern, unyielding right
To break the spell-wrought fetters of the mind
They would not be undone, for thy soft soul
Scorned to be subject to such base controul.
Oh! hadst thou been a dowerless village maid,
And rich in nought beside thy native charms,
I might have dared to woo thee to my arms,
Thou not unwilling; — in some peaceful shade
We might have lived in blissful solitude,
Scorning if scorned by Fortune: — Fate's decree
Hath fixed it otherwise; dark cares intrude;
But what are all my woes to that of losing thee!