Classic Poem

Would it had been mine enemy
Who came a secret way—
O, but the door that waits a friend
Swings open to the day.
There stood no warder at my gate
To bid Love stand and stay.

Would it had been mine enemy
In open fight and great—
'Gainst the Belovéd who goes armed
In strength inviolate,
Or dreads lest in his hands he bear
The hungry blade of hate?

Would it had been mine enemy
Who mocked to see me low—
Better all anger than this thought
Love left to scar me so,—
My heart was naked to his hand,
His hand who gave the blow!