Classic Poem

A withered silence filled my chest of sorrow
With mildewed fancies till she came to me;
My world she made of laughter and tomorrow —
A lonely sail that gemmed a wasted sea.
Her wisdom was a spendthrift, lavishing
On me a costless cloak of fertile power;
She led me up a steep path to the spring
To taste eternity, bubbling in an hour.
But I forgot the equipage I wore,
The magic sifted whiteness of her mind
Coloring life; vaunted in burgeoned lore
Of riches taken, leaving a debt behind.
From her I got but gave no wealthiness:
Fleeced I the giver, yet am penniless.