Classic Poem

The heavy gang-chains clatter, and the boat
Groans grievously like to some stricken knight,
A sudden yearning rises in my throat,
And unshed tears half veil you from my sight.

Your love was like an incense-bearing vase
That I have shattered, playing carelessly,
Seeing that dearer than my Lady's grace
The lay of sainted poets was to me.

As we have loved, so let us part from love,
And I shall walk into the outer night
Singing, at heart the sweet remembrance of
Those violet-scented hours of delight.