Classic Poem

WHEREIN TO RECALL THE PAST IS TO AUGMENT THE DESPAIR OF THE PRESENT

When I look back upon the fugitive time
Which swept my noblest ecstasies to doom,
And spilled the fire and trampled the white plume
And weighted down with tears the wings of rhyme;
And when I see Love turned to pantomime,
The dream derided, and the double bloom
Of flesh and spirit betrayed — half to the tomb,
And half to heaven — O cruel celestial crime! —
Then like one drugged and rifled, I awake,
And still in stupour, feel the wind and stare
At both my hands and body stripped, and quake,
Remembering lutes and sleep with purple hair...
O Stars like stone! O Death! Black Day! Blind Fate!
How you have done me to this dark estate!