Classic Poem

To seem the stranger lies my lot, my life
Among strangers. Father and mother dear,°
Brothers and sisters are in Christ not near
And he my peace/my parting, sword and strife.°

England, whose honour O all my heart woos, wife°
To my creating thought, would neither hear°
Me, were I pleading, plead nor do I: I wéar-
Y of idle a being but by where wars are rife.°

I am in Ireland now; now I am at a thírd°
Remove. Not but in all removes I can
Kind love both give and get. Only what word°

Wisest my heart breeds dark heaven's baffling ban
Bars or hell's spell thwarts. This to hoard unheard,
Heard unheeded, leaves me a lonely began.°