Classic Poem

Warm the summer sun in heaven,
But for me no heat is given!
Frozen is the very heart's blood,
Through the bride that played me false.

Grief's black pall hath fallen o'er me,
On my sorrow-bowed-down head:
Mortal anguish tears my soul, and
From this body would it break.

Neighbours asked have I to help me;
No man gave me aught but laughter;
Then, to the grave of either parent —
Neither heard the voice I called with.

Light then changed for me to darkness,
Senseless on the ground I lay,
Dull the night, until a tempest
Roused me from the tombstone cold.

Raged the storm — a horse I saddled,
Bent on riding — God knows where —
Life is heartless toil to laugh at,
Man's fate evil alone to share.