Classic Poem

Such a grim fight we fought for thee with death
As never hero in the ancient gloom,
With swollen brows, strained cords, and labouring breath,
Fought for Alcestis by the rocky tomb.
In vain. Thou wert too beautiful, too pure,
Too tender and too frail for earthly life.
Thou wert in love with Death, nor could'st endure
Even the dawnrise of this day of strife.
Ah! thou art gone, who scarcely saw the day,
Fair little comrade of one fleeting while,
And we must travel our appointed space,
Nor ever for the brightening of our way
Behold again on any living face
That matchless kindred look, that touching smile.