Classic Poem

Upon the high and holy mount I stood
And reverently kissed the sacred stone
Where She had laid her head — the fair, the good —
And threw myself upon it, sad and lone.
On every virtue's fount the marble closed
That day the lady of my heart alas!
From all Earth's utmost excellence deposed
Through bitter death, to heavenly life did pass.
And there I called on Love — O God! you know
How wearisome this world thenceforth became.
Take, take me then to her who sleeps below! —
None heard! — I listened — gazed — 'twas all the same —
So I arose, passing the Alps with woe
And calling on my lost Selvaggia's name.