Classic Poem

A bird was singing on the linden tree,
Filling the fields with music by the wood;
My heart was lifted, and did long to be
In the old hollow where the rose-bush stood:
Its wilding blossoms I again could see,
Many and fragrant clustered on the brier,
As are my thoughts of her I most admire.
“It seems indeed a thousand years ago,
Since in the arms of my dear love I lay;
And not for any fault of mine I know
He has been strange to me this many a day;
But since I heed not if birds sing or no,
And since the flowers for me have had no sheen,
Short has my pleasure, long my sorrow been.”