Classic Poem

When, grieving that your loveless heart relents
By no compassionate sign, however shown,
I lull to quietude despair's chill tone
With tender dreams of Heavenly recompense,
Hope brings me, at these hours, no joy intense
That you, in habitations yet unknown,
Hereafter may at last become mine own,
To adore among divine encompassments!

For should we meet where such far splendor lies,
I could not reverence in rapture warm
You dowered with chaste wings or the aureole's wreath;
But I should yearn to tear, like dark disguise,
The shining immortality from your form,
And find its earthlier womanhood beneath!