Classic Poem

TO * * * *

G O ! join the mincing measures of the crowd,
And be that abject thing which men call wise,
In the World's school of wisdom! — I despise
Thy proffered aid! — Go! Thou may'st court the proud,
With ready smile, and ever bended knee;
But I do scorn to owe a debt to thee
My soul could not repay. — There was a tie
(Would it existed now!) which might have kept
Peace, and good will between us: — I have wept,
With tears of wild and breathless agony,
That it should pass away; — and sought to quell
The angry thoughts that in my breast would swell,
When dwelling on my injuries: — but yet —
Though I forgive , — I never can forget!