Classic Poem

The Night was dark, the rain fell fast,
The wind made sullen moan;
Too oft the wine cup round had passed
And I was all alone.
Yet Love was victor; I to Moschus came
And drenched and shivering called on his dear name.

But none gave answer: such return
He renders to my love.
How long, dear God! for thou didst learn
Thyself these pains to prove.
Ah would that he in grief might wander so
And ne'er a door for place of refuge know.