Classic Poem

Moon is full this winter night, The
The stars are clear though few;
And every window glistens bright
With leaves of frozen dew.

The sweet moon through your lattice gleams
And lights your room like day;
And there you pass in happy dreams
The peaceful hours away;

While I, with effort hardly quelling
The anguish in my breast,
Wander about the silent dwelling
And cannot think of rest.

The old clock in the gloomy hall
Ticks on from hour to hour,
And every time its measured call
Seems lingering slow and slower.

And O how slow that keen-eyed star
Has tracked the chilly grey!
What watching yet, how very far
The morning lies away!

Beside your chamber door I stand:
Love, are you slumbering still?
My cold heart underneath my hand
Has almost ceased to thrill.

Bleak, bleak the east wind sobs and sighs
And drowns the turret bell
Whose sad note, undistinguished, dies
Unheard, like my farewell.

To-morrow Scorn will blight my name
And Hate will trample me —
Will load me with a coward's shame:
A Traitor's perjury!

False Friends will launch their venomed sneers;
True Friends will wish me dead;
And I shall cause the bitterest tears
That you have ever shed.

The dark deeds of my outlawed race
Will then like virtues shine;
And men will pardon their disgrace,
Beside the guilt of mine;

For who forgives the accursed crime
Of dastard treachery?
Rebellion in its chosen time
May Freedom's champion be;

Revenge may stain a righteous sword,
It may be just to slay;
But, Traitor — Traitor — from that word
All true breasts shrink away!

O I would give my heart to death,
To keep my honour fair:
Yet, I'll not give my inward Faith
My Honour's name to spare —

Not even to keep your priceless love,
Dare I, Beloved, deceive;
This treason should the future prove:
Gleneden, then believe!

I know the path I ought to go;
I follow fearlessly,
Enquiring not what deeper woe
Stern Duty stores for me.

So Foes pursue, and cold allies
Mistrust me, every one:
Let me be false in others' eyes
If faithful in my own.