Classic Poem

Alas! how frail and weak a little boat
I have sailed in. I called it Happiness,
And I had thought there was not storm nor stress
Of wind so masterful but it would float
Blithely in their despite; but lo! one note
Of harsh discord, one word of bitterness,
And a fierce overwhelming wilderness
Of angry waters chokes my gasping throat.

I am near drowned in this unhappy sea,
I will not strive, let me lie still and sink,
I have no joy to live. Oh! unkind love
Why have you wounded me so bitterly?
That am as easily wounded as a dove
Who has a silver throat and feet of pink.