Classic Poem

Ah, had we met in other days, before my soul had known
What 'tis to smile o'er ruined hopes, in mockery and alone,
Perchance it then had been my lot, which now can never be,
To make thy heart, that beats for none, beat warm and true for me.

But now the shadows round my way are gathering dark and grim,
The wind blows coldly off the shore, the lights are growing dim,
The angry waters rage and roar, and headlong through the night
From love, from hope, from thee, my barque goes plunging out of sight.

And so I waft my fond farewell across the darkening brine:
Thy heart can never, never bring the peace of love to mine:
There is no peace for evermore, in earth or heaven, for me—
But, oh, if this could once have been, how lovely life would be!

I see thee on the distant shore, in all thy glittering grace,
The sunshine streaming round thy form, and hope upon thy face;
And I shall see those glorious eyes and hear that voice divine
Till fate has stilled this wayward heart,—but true till death to thine.

Nor chance nor change can ever dim the glory of that brow;
The light will shine forever there that shines upon thee now;
And tempest-tost and far away, upon the sea of sin,
I yet shall know, though lost to me, there was a heaven to win.

I did not think that time or grief could ever break the pride
That lets my soul reveal the truth it now no more can hide,
But lonely o'er the wreck of youth its fires are burning yet,—
And, well for me if I had died or ever we had met!