Classic Poem

I see the sun rise while the shadows are waning,
But darkness alone in my spirit is reigning;
The Rivers are glad once again to be clad
In the rich golden light that he scatters around,
And with voices of pleasure the forests resound —
Ah! why do these visages, hideous and black,
Still frown upon me tho' the sun is come back?

The waters of Pleasure beside me are sweeping,
As fast as they flow all as fast am I weeping;
No drop do I taste while my hours run to waste,
For to me they are bitter as tears that I shed
And alas! it were fitter to lay down my head,
And to sink in the Earth, like the soft summer rain,
Than to gaze on the waters of Pleasure in vain.

I roam in the glades of the Forest alone:
The trees of my garden unlovely are grown:
But far as I range I can meet with no change;
A mist from within comes to darken my sight,
And rests on the landscape like fog or a blight —
Wan, frigid and cheerless all nature is seen,
Like hoar-frosted meadows despoiled of their green.

I envy the beasts that are seeking their prey,
And the vile slimy reptile that crawls in my way;
Yon carolling bird makes his joy to be heard —
Ah! now he is falling! — he carols no more! —
His shouting and singing and soaring are o'er! —
Yet I envy him still, as he falls on his nest,
With the sharp-pointed arrow stuck deep in his breast.