Classic Poem

What is this Peace
That statesmen sign?
How I have sought
To make it mine.

Where groaning cities
Clang and glow
I hunted, hunted,
Peace to know.

And still I saw
Where I passed by
Discarded hearts,—
Heard children cry.

By willowed waters
Brimmed with rain
I thought to capture
Peace again.

I sat me down
My Peace to hoard,
But Beauty pricked me
With a sword.

For in the stillness
Something stirred,
And I was crippled
For a word.

There is no peace
A man can find;
The anguish sits
His heart behind.

The eyes he loves,
The perfect breast,
Too exquisite
To give him rest.

This is his curse
Since brain began.
His penalty
For being man.