Classic Poem

If I go down to death uncomforted
By love's great conquest and its great surrender,
Bearing my soul along, unwed, unwed;
(Your darling hands' caresses swift and tender
Lacking upon my head, upon my lips
Your lips) and in my heart love unfulfilled,
And in my eyes a blind apocalypse,
Bereft of all the glory I have willed;

I shall go proudly for your dear love's sake,
Triumphant for brief memories, but tragic
Because of those large hopes that fail and break
Beneath Fate's wizard-wand of cruel magic —
But ah, Fate could not touch me if I stood
Completed by your love's beatitude!