Classic Poem

No tongue commends me to the care of heaven,
And no lov'd Maiden will my absence mourn.

I take no pledge—no amatory token—
To bring thee to my mind when I am gone;
I have no vow of faith to keep unbroken,
And none is giv'n me to rely upon.

But do I less reluctantly depart?
Or is my love for thee the less sincere?
Or will my panting, captivated heart
Shake off its chain when thou'rt no longer near?

No—the corporal captive may hope,
From the dank, murky goal, a release;
But the captive of beauty, thy heart
never has freedom again
shilly fingers shall burst
immutable peace.