Classic Poem

Other people too have friends that they love;
But ours was a love such as few friends have known
You were all my sustenance; it mattered more
To see you daily than to get my morning food
And if there was a single day when we did not meet
I would sit listless, my mind in a tangle of gloom
To think we are now thousands of miles apart,
Lost like clouds, each drifting on his far way!
Those clouds on high, where many winds blow,
What is their chance of ever meeting again?
And if in open heaven the beings of the air
Are driven and thwarted, what of Man below?