Classic Poem

WHEREIN HE RECALLS HIS FOREBODINGS AT FAREWELL

How paints my mind with sickening agitation
The day I left her — grave, disconsolate,
My heart with my Madonna and my fate —
That day comes back with strange intoxication:
I see her move amid a constellation
Of ladies liquid-eyed and intricate,
A rose, the brightest there, the least ornate,
Upon her brow a pensive resignation.
Then sings in light her inner sprightliness,
Her pearls, her chaplets and her rich robe moving;
Her song, her laugh, her gentle No and Yes —
So passed I from the Lady of my loving:
Now black suspicions, dreams and portents press —
Ah Heaven, disperse them with Thy disapproving!