Classic Poem

Our love is done!
I would not have it back, I say, —
I would not have my whole year May!
But yet for our dead passion's sake,
Kiss me once more, and strive to make
Our last kiss the supremest one,
For love is done.

Our love is done!
And still my eyes with tears are wet,
Our souls are stirred with vague regret,
We gaze farewell, yet cannot speak,
And firm resolve grows strangely weak,
Though hearts are twain that once were one,
Since love is done.

But love is done!
I know it, vow it, and that kiss
Must set a finis to our bliss;
Yet when I felt thy mouth meet mine,
My life again seemed half divine,
Our very hearts together run!
Can love be done?

Can love be done?
Who cares if this be mad or wise?
Trust not my words, but read my eyes;
Thy kiss bade sleeping love awake,
Then take me to thy heart — ah, take
The life that with thine own is one!
Love is not done.