Classic Poem

I would I were mighty, victorious,
A monarch of steel and of gold;
I would I were one of the glorious
Divinities hallowed of old,
A god of Olympian fashion
Who mingled with women and men,
A deity human in passion,
Transhuman in strength and in ken.

For then I could render the pleasure
I win from the sight of your face;
For then I could utter my treasure
Of homage and thanks for your grace;
I could dower, illumine and gladden,
Could rescue from peril and tears,
And my speech could vibrate and madden
With eloquence worthy your ears.

You meet me; your greeting is kindly;
One minute I marvel and gaze,
Idolatrous, worshipping blindly,
Yet mindful of decorous ways.
You pass; and the glory is ended,
Though lustre and taper may glow;
The goddess who made the night splendid
Has vanished; and darkly I go.

You know not how quickly you mounted
The throne in the depths of my eyes;
You care not how meekly I counted
Those moments for pearls of the skies;
Or, knowing it, all is forgotten
The instant I fade from your sight,
Consigned to the visions begotten
Of chaos and slumber and night.

But I, I remember your glances,
Your chariest gesture and word,
And out of them fashion romances
Man never yet uttered nor heard,
Romances too brilliant for mortals,
Too glad for a planet of dole,
Romances that open the portals
Of Eden and welcome my soul.