Classic Poem

I would that my sea of troubles
Could flow into one word alone;
To the blithesome winds I would give it,
They blithely would waft it to one.

Would waft it to thee, beloved,
That word of pain and care!
Thou shouldst hear it at every instant,
Shouldst hear it everywhere.

And soon as, when night came upon thee,
Thine eyelids closed in sleep,
Through the deepest depths of thy dreaming
My word should surely sweep.