Classic Poem

Beneath the deep-blue sky of her own native land,
She weary grew, and, drooping, pined away:
She died and passed, and over me I oft-times feel
Her youthful shadow fondly hovering;
And all the while a gaping chasm divides us both.
In vain I would my aching grief awake:
From tongue indifferent I heard the fatal news,
With ear indifferent I learned her death.
And yet, 'tis true, I loved her once with ardent soul,
My heart of hearts enwrapt in her alone;
With all the tenderness of languor torturing,
With all the racking pains of fond despair!
Where now my love, my pains? Alas, my barren soul
For her, so light and easy of belief,
For memory of days that nothing can recall,
To song or tears is dead and voiceless now.