Classic Poem

Sweet Love, the shadow of thy parting wings,
Hangs on my soul, like the soft shade of even,
Farewell to thee, for thou art going to Heaven,
And I must stay behind, with all the things
Which thou, and thy benign administerings
Once made most sweet, of sweetness now bereaven;
Whose memory, as a sour fermenting leaven,
Perverts all nature with an ill that springs
From good corrupted. Oh! for mercy — Love,
Stay with me yet, altho' thy comrade fair,
The smiler Hope, be gone to realms above,
Stay with thy youngest sister, meek Despair —
For meek she is in truth, as brooding dove,
If thou with her the lowly bosom share.