Classic Poem

To-day my heart is broken, — and I feel
No rest in love, no recompence in song:
The slow sick weary moments crawl along;
Not one can answer my forlorn appeal.
And thou art far away whose spirit strong
Brings hope and light and comfort: — now these steal
Away from me, a shivering ghostlike throng,
And no sweet God would answer, — did I kneel.

O heart, heart, heart, — that triest to understand, —
Keep thou for ever from the genius-land,
And mingle not with agony like mine!
" A bay-wreathed poet " means a brow that drips
With blood for ever. Kiss not thou my lips,
Lest the eternal poet's-doom be thine.