Classic Poem

Death has ordained thee out of all my dreams
And dealt me bitter check to my pursuit;
My sunlight fails while tears are absolute,
And night falls ever chill, with scanty gleams
From clouded stars that mock the dull moon's beams.
My summer land, long fair with flowers and fruit,
Far cumbered lies with rotted branch and root,
In dismal fields by hopeless stagnant streams.
Death has redeemed thee out of toilsome days
And bound thy harvest in a single sheaf,
While I went forward over saddened ways
Whose barren progress brings but slow relief;
God aid me to the wisdom and the praise
Of plenteous years beyond this desolate grief!