Classic Poem

Go from me, go; but ere you go
Fan back the firelight's sombre glow;
Snuff out the lights; draw close the shades;
Then bring me where it flames and fades
The scarlet cypress-flower of woe;

And place it in my fingers, so
That when my eyes quite sightless grow,
I still may clutch its bleeding blade.
Go from me, go.

Leave wide the door. Across the snow,
I wish the glare of fire to throw
A pathway for him o'er the glades.
O! when he sees my white-veined braids
And flower, — pray God he then may know.
Go from me, go