Classic Poem

As Asick man within a half dark room,
When he extinguishes the taper's light
Feels his clear vision plunged in thickest night,
Till he, inured to the sudden gloom,
With the quick aid of fancy 'gins to see
Shapes indistinct at first, until his sight,
Familiar grown with shadows, breaketh free
From darkness' cloud. — E'en so it is with me
When thou dost hide from me thy beauteous face,
And I am forced in sorrow to depart.
Anon, the memory of the hour and place
To our last meeting consecrate — the art
Wherewith you made me music — and your looks,
Flash on me like a dream from Poet's books.