Classic Poem

There was a lady broke her heart
In two—in two.
She hid the pieces out of sight
And danced and sang the livelong night,
For nothing else remained to do.

“My joy,” said she, “was like a bird,
So soon it flew.
And now the winter will be long
With bitter winds and no bird's song …
Grey weary days!” Ah! she spoke true.

She sought no dreary cypress shade,
Nor yew … nor yew.
They did not see her eyes were wet,
She gathered pinks and mignonette,
But hidden near her heart was rue.

The Happy Lady she was called,
So few, so few
Can be so careless and so gay,
But if she wept the night away
None knew … none knew.