Classic Poem

Beauteous cradle of my sorrow,
Beauteous grave where peace I knew,
Beauteous town, I go to-morrow;
To ye all I cry, Adieu!

Fare thee well, thou garden holy,
Where my pensive love doth pace!
Fare thee well, thou threshold lowly,
Where I first beheld her face.

Hadst thou never looked upon me,
Oh! my spirit's beauteous Queen,
Woe had never fallen on me,
Wretched I had never been.

Never did I seek to woo thee,
Never love from thee entreat.
Only peaceful days near to thee,
In the air thou breathest, sweet.

But sharp words in anger spoken
By thy lips compel me hence;
And my heart is sick and broken,
Frenzy stirs my every sense.

Fare thee well; a pilgrim dreary
I will go my mournful way,
Till bowed head and limbs so weary
In a distant grave I lay.