Classic Poem

I would forgive the sleepless nights,
I would forgive the pain,
If you would only give me back
My own dear world again.

I cannot put in subtle words
The mischief you have done.
But there 's a difference in the storm,
A difference in the sun.

The marshes have an evil look,
The sea lies stripped and bare;
The gracious mists seem torn away
From nature everywhere.

I may forget the sleepless nights,
I may forget the pain;
But I, alas, shall never see
My own dear world again!