Classic Poem

By classic Cam a lovely maiden grew:
The sun scarce shone upon her tender birth
Ere she was left, the loneliest thing on earth,
An orphan bent by every wind that blew.
But He who ne'er forsakes the fatherless,
Who led confiding Ruth by hand unseen
The freely scatter'd barley-ears to glean,
Was ever with her in her loneliness.
Thus in her solitude her mind became
Of gentleness and love the sanctuary.
Thither one day, 'twas in that season merry
In which the Cuckoo sings her own sweet name,
Walking perchance, the peerless maid I spied,
And from that moment sought her for my bride!