Classic Poem

OF HER FAREWELL AND HIS BLINDNESS

O day, O hour, O moment of farewell!
O stars conspiring then to beggar me!
O look too true where, had I eyes to see,
More than that moment stood inexorable!
But now I know, alas, I know too well!
Then I believed (ah, blind credulity!)
It was a temporary loss; that she —
What hope of all my hopes but heard that knell!
For, even then, the high doom was ordained
Forever to put out my life's pure flame:
Her sad face held the verdict of the skies;
I missed the piteous portent there that strained
To tell me. Death was playing his dark game
And with his burning poppies bound my eyes.