Classic Poem

Yes! some such form hath haunted me before,
In younger days, when I have lingered long
In fairy glade, and drank the Poet's song,
And revelled fondly in romantic lore;
But never one the garb of mortal wore,
Or uttered human breath, till from the throng,
Of fierce and feeble — powerless and strong —
Hideous and lovely, thou didst spring, and o'er
My path of life scattered the light of love,
And happiness, and hope. The blight is there —
The cloud is on it now — yet far above
These petty troubles, still that light shines fair,
And I am blest whate'er of pain I prove,
And loved and loving can defy despair.