Classic Poem

I NEVER thought that you could mourn
—As other women do.
A blossom from your garland torn,
A jewel dropped that you had worn,
—What could that be to you?

You never heard the human sound
—Of wailing and despair.
Nor faithful proved nor faithless found,
You lived and moved in beauty crowned,
—Content with being fair.

If I had known those eyes could weep
—That used to sparkle so,
You had been mine to love, to keep,
But all too late I probed the deep
—And all too late I know.