Classic Poem

A voice unheard, a fancied face,
Make poet's work but idle gear.
Between the lines your form I trace,
Above the rhyme your accents hear.
Now Locker's lyrics are as drear
As epic tomes of Young or Glover!
Praed, Dobson, Herrick, — none can cheer;
No charm can soothe an absent lover.

Oh, well November winds may race,
And drive the leaves so stiff and sere!
The smile that might their rage displace
To make new summer in the year,
Is gone; howe'er the seasons veer,
While other skies are bent above her,
Blow warm or cold, come cloud or clear,
No charm can soothe an absent lover.

On, Time! amend thy cripple pace,
And bring the moon to lovers dear.
O Rose of Love! take heart of grace;
Our day of bloom will soon appear.
Who'll reck the moan, the sigh, the tear,
The lonely mists that round me hover,
When I can tell your willing ear:
No charm could soothe an absent lover.

ENVOI

Maidens, heart-whole, and youths that jeer
When this my plaining ye discover: —
Look, lest your day of doom be near;
No charm can soothe an absent lover.