Classic Poem

I CANNOT love you well, love,
— I cannot love again.
Your heaven is my hell, love,
— Your rapture is my pain.

I cannot say once more, love,
— The words that have been said.
My hand is on the door, love,
— My heart is with the dead.

When you would bid me stay, love,
— A voice is in mine ear,
That cries, " Away, away, love!
— How shouldst thou linger here? "

You warmed me at your fire, love,
— But I myself am cold.
God grant you your desire, love,
— And new love for the old.