Classic Poem

Cold blows the north wind, bleak and strong,
Wild beat the waves upon the shore;
The tempest howls, the surges roar,
And from the angry ocean wide,
In flows the restless, white-crowned tide,
O'er the whole night long.

Cold blows the north wind bleak and strong,
The billows in delirious glee,
Roll in from 'cross the foaming sea;
And in their mad and merry race,
They fling the salt spray in my face,
And chant their dreary song.

The wind is fierce, the sea is bold,
But what care I for wind or sea;
What terrors has the storm for me!
I love; and in my heart there burns,
A flame that sea and tempest spurns,
A flame that fears not cold.

My heart's aflame, my blood aboil,
With love, with all the fires of love;
These cold winds circling me above,
And sweeping 'cross the briny flow,
But fan the flame, and make it glow,
Like fires fed with oil.

I dare that Tempest in thy might,
My love shall never suffer harms;
To shield her from the beating storm
I'll bare my naked breast to thee,
Thou cruel, harsh, unfeeling sea,
All thro' the dreary night.

Cling to me, Love, still closer cling,
My strong arms folded round thy form,
Thou needst not fear the sea, the storm,
But why is thy embrace so weak?
Canst thou not trust to me, Love, speak,
To brave the fierce Storm King?

Or art thou cold and passionless?
Then let my life blood's fervid flow,
Kindle love's fires and make them glow,
Until thy melting heart, once cold,
Feels all the joys of love untold;
Feels love's true happiness.

And let me look into thine eyes,
And press my warm heart close to thine;
Drink from thy lips the honeyed wine,
'Till I am drunkened with the bliss;
That flows free from a lover's kiss,
That in love's embrace lies.

Let me thy still affections move,
Let me thy slumbering passions wake;
'Til love doth full possession take,
Let me melt down thine icy heart,
And teach to the air Love's sweet art,
Teach to thee how to Love.

My Love, by yonder bending sky,
By yonder weary, moaning sea;
By all these winds so wild and free,
By all beneath, by all above,
Thou art my life, my soul, my love:
No lover loves as I.

And yet sayst thou it cannot be?
Hast thou no kinder word for me?
For tho' I fear not wind or sea;
Tho' I dread not the tempest bold.
I cannot bear a love so cold.

Such love would quench the flame divine;
That burns on cupid's sacred shrine: —
Winds, blow me to some resting place.
Cold Lea, I come to thy embrace,
My love is lost to me.