Classic Poem

O LUCKY prison, blithe captivity,
Where neither out of rage, nor out of spite,
But bound by love, and charity's sweet might,
She has me fast,—my lovely enemy!
Others, at turning of their prison key,
Sadden; I triumph; since I have in sight
Not death, but life; not suffering, but delight;
Nor law severe, nor judge that hears no plea;

But gatherings to the heart, but wilful blisses,
But words that in such moments are no crimes,
But laughs, and tricks, and winning ways; but kisses,
Delicious kisses, put deliciously,
A thousand, thousand, thousand, thousand times;
And yet how few will all those thousands be!